When We Fight
by fer1213
Summary: Starting in the summer between seasons 4 and 5, Riley's away and some interesting sparks are flying between Buffy and Spike. But when Riley returns, Buffy's problems are only beginning. Now COMPLETE.
1. When We Fight

**When We Fight**

**Chapter 1 – When We Fight**

The music in the Bronze was loud, but Willow yelled over it.  "So when's Riley getting back from Iowa?"

Buffy looked up from the Diet Coke she was sipping.  "Um, three weeks?"

"You're not sure?"

"Well, you know how summer is.  Sun, fun, days blending together…"

"Sure!" Willow answered in her sunniest voice.  "And it lets us go out for a girls' night, guilt free!"

"Yep," Buffy said.  She put her glass down on the table and wiped her hands on her long, black skirt.  "So when is Tara coming back?"

"Two days, fourteen hours and…" Willow checked her watch.  "Three minutes."

"Oh," Buffy said.  "Hey!  Here come Xander and Anya.  Hi guys."  She waved the couple down.

"Hey Buff, Will.  I didn't know you two would be here tonight," Xander said, sitting on the couch next to Willow.

"Xander couldn't stand the smell of his basement any longer," Anya said.  "So instead we came here—where we can smell sweaty bodies and spilled beer." 

"And actually?  A vast improvement," Xander said.

Anya sat on Xander's knee.  "Sweetie?  I'm thirsty," she said.

Buffy got up.  "I'll get it.  Diet Coke with no ice, right?  And regular Coke for you, Xan, with extra ice--crushed."  They nodded, looking impressed.  She smiled and headed for the bar.

As Buffy waited for the bartender to notice her, she looked around at the crowd.  A slow song was playing.  The couples on the dance floor barely swayed to the beat.  It was times like these that she missed Riley.  But what really surprised her was that she didn't miss him more deeply.  He'd already been gone for a week and she was okay.  Better than okay, sometimes.  Patrolling without worrying about him was actually almost fun.

"JD, mate.  Straight up."

"Hey!" Buffy said to the line skipper.  She rolled her eyes when she realized who it was.  "Spike.  Of course."

"Oh, did I take your spot in the queue?" Spike asked.  When Buffy opened her mouth to answer, he continued, "Because I really don't care."  He turned his back to her.

"What bug crawled up your butt?" Buffy muttered.

"No bug, Slayer," Spike said, over his shoulder with his drink already in hand.  "Unless you're a new species."

"Me?" Buffy said.  "What did I do to you?"

"You exist.  Isn't that enough?"  Spike brushed past her and entered the crowd.  Buffy watched his blond head as he worked his way over to the pool tables.

"Hey!  What's your pleasure?" the bartender finally asked her.  She had to think a second before remembering why she was up there.

After Anya and Xander thanked Buffy for the drinks, Xander asked, "What did the walking undead want?"

Buffy sat down.  "Who knows with Spike?  He's all prickly tonight."

"Whereas normally he's a *joy* to be around," Xander said.

"Maybe he's lonely," Willow said.  "Demons don't want to be around him because he kills them.  Humans don't want to hang out with him because, well, vampire.  And they don't know he's all bark and no bite."

"Yeah.  My heart weeps for the guy," Xander said.  "So!  Who's up for dancing?"

"Me!"  Anya raised her hand and jumped up.  Xander spun her off onto the dance floor.

"Maybe you're right, Will," Buffy said.  "But it makes me wonder why he's still in Sunnydale if there's nothing here for him."

Willow shrugged.  "Maybe there is something here but he hasn't figured out what that is yet.  Anyway, I feel sorry for him."

"Hmmm," Buffy said.

"Maybe you should go over and ask him what's bothering him," Willow said.

"Me?  Why would I ever ask Spike what's bothering him?  He's a bleached blond pain in my butt.  If he's suffering, I say great."

"Well, it looks like you'll get to say it to his face because here he comes," Willow said.

Buffy turned to follow Willow's pointing finger and found herself with a face full of black leather.

"Y'know what your problem is, Summers?"

"Oh, this will be fun.  I'll bite, Spike, since you can't.  What would be my problem, all-knowing evil dead guy?"

Spike sat across from her and leaned in.  "Your problem is that you've got it too damn easy."

"I what?  On what planet do I have anything remotely resembling easy?"

"You've got the looks--the body, the face."  Spike waved his hands at her.  "The superhero strength, the group of faithful Scoobies trailing in your wake, the world's most vanilla boytoy…  You make your little quips and kill the bad guys.  What a bloody simple life you lead."

Buffy just stared at him, her mouth open a bit.

"While I?  I am locked in a cage of someone else's making.  Yeah, I've got the look and the attitude and my strength is to be reckoned with, but it means nothing because I can't choose my own path."

"And I'm supposed to cry for you because you can no longer eat people?"

"Nobody's asking for your tears, Slayer."

Buffy stood up.  "Then what is it you want from me, Spike?"

Spike stood also.  "A little consideration would be nice.  Besides that, not a damn thing."

"Are you drunk?"

"Are you?"

"Woah," Willow said, stepping between the two.  "Take a moment here.  Breathe—or don't if you're Spike and don't have to.  Or do you?  It's something I've always wondered because you *seem* to be breathing, yet I've heard tell that vampires don't need to breathe.  And look!  I've stopped you from fighting!"

"We are not fighting.  You have to care what someone thinks to fight with them," Buffy said, glaring at Spike.

"Another example of insane Buffy logic," Spike said, glaring back.

"Go to hell, Spike.  I'm not doing this with you."  Buffy sat down abruptly.

Spike stared at her for a moment before growling in frustration and storming off.

"You two remind me of an old married couple.  A mean old married couple.  Without the married or the couple-y parts."

"Sorry, Will.  I'm not in the Bronzing mood anymore," Buffy said.  She pulled her bag out from under her chair and stood.  "I think I'll head home."

"You're going?  Already?" Willow asked.  "But Xander and Anya are still out there dancing."

"Tell them goodnight for me, would you?"  She swung her bag over her shoulder.  The stakes inside knocked together softly.  "Spike has pooped this party for me."

"Oh, Buffy."

"No big.  I'm tired anyway."  She leaned down to hug her friend.  "See you tomorrow?"

Willow nodded.  "You bet.  I know I don't need to tell you this, but be safe."

"I'm on it."

Buffy stepped into the warm summer night.  Couples were clustered around the entrance to the club, talking, kissing, smoking.  She was relieved that no vamps seemed to be around.  Well, that one vamp in particular wasn't around.

As Buffy walked toward home, she thought about how above-average snarky Spike had been lately.  She'd bump into him while patrolling, and though he'd help dust the nasties, he'd also be quick with the insults.  He'd rag on her technique, her weapons, her clothes, her choice in footwear…  Not that Buffy didn't give it back as good as she got.  But there were only so many ways you could make fun of bleached hair, the color black and his undead status.

Buffy shook her head.  Whatever was wrong with Spike definitely wasn't her problem.  She decided to do a sweep on her way home.  Maybe she'd catch Giles out.  He'd offered to patrol for her so she and Willow could have a night off.  Some night off, Buffy thought.

She caught sight of Giles pretty quickly.  He was trying to be stealthy and failing miserably.  "Giles," Buffy said, coming up behind him.

He jumped like he'd been shot.  "Good God, Buffy!  Don't sneak up on me like that.  You very nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Good thing I wasn't a demon then, huh?"

Giles looked embarrassed.  "Yes, well.  Quite."

Buffy patted him on the back.  "It's okay, Giles.  I just don't want you hurt."

"I thought you and Willow were out on the town this evening."

Buffy sighed.  "We were.  Spike showed up and decided he *had* to piss me off.  I need to figure out how to ignore him again.  He's been getting to me lately."

"Well, he's most likely bored," Giles said.  They began to walk.  "And irritating others seems to be his specialty and a source of amusement."

Buffy looked at him.  "But that's just it, Giles.  He doesn't seem to *enjoy* pissing me off.  It just makes him madder."

"Then why does he continue to do it?"

"Got me."

"Maybe you should speak with him about it," Giles said.

Buffy stopped and stared at him.  "Why do you people think I should talk to Spike?  Like I give a damn what's bothering him?"

Giles scratched his head.  "Then I'm confused.  You don't care, yet it concerns you?"

Buffy breathed in deeply, letting the night air fill her lungs.  "It's not that I'm concerned.  I just want him to stop."

"Talking about me, Slayer?" Spike asked, stepping out from behind a mausoleum.  

"Are you *following* me now?"

"This happens to be my cemetery.  I have every right to be here.  You, on the other hand, do not.  So are *you* following *me*?"

"Buffy," Giles said as she stepped closer to Spike.

"Okay, Spike.  Yes.  We were talking about you.  About your pathetic unlife and how you feel the need to spend it harassing me!"  She shouted the last word into his face.

"Oh, I'm harassing you, am I?"  Spike was so close, Buffy was almost cross-eyed trying to focus on him.

"Really, you two," Giles interrupted.  "What is the core issue here?"

"Her!"

"Him!"

"I feel like a bloody marriage therapist," Giles muttered, looking to the sky.

"Not funny, Giles."

"Yeah, Watcher.  What the hell do you know about it?"

"Obviously I know that you two need to work out some issues before you kill each other."  Giles stopped to think.  "Actually, go ahead.  It's not like you can do much physical damage to Buffy, Spike.  She, on the other hand, could dust you without a twinge."

"Ha!" Buffy said to Spike as she settled her hands on her hips.

"Thanks mate," Spike said to Giles.

"My pleasure," Giles said.  "Please do work it out.  Bickering gives me dreadful headaches.  In fact, I feel one coming on right now."

Buffy went to his side.  "You can go on home, Giles.  I'll finish up patrol."

Spike moved closer too.  "Need help getting there?"

"I only have a headache, you git.  I'm not feeble."

"What the bleeding hell's your problem?  Just trying to help!"

"Since when do you help?" Buffy asked.

"Since—well, since never.  But that doesn't mean I can't start now, does it?"

"No, Spike," Giles said.  "It doesn't.  So although I do not require your help at this point in time, I appreciate the offer."

"Fuck this," Spike said, walking away.

"What?  I was being sincere!" Giles called after him.  He turned to Buffy.  "I think I will go home now.  See if you can't smooth things over with Spike, will you?  He could be a rather significant fighting asset if he thinks he's doing so on his terms."

"As long as he only *thinks* that."  Buffy held her Watcher's look.  "Oh all right already!  I'll go make nice with the growly, PMSing vampire.  Happy?"

Giles smiled.  "Well, I've felt worse."  He squeezed her shoulder.  "Goodnight, Buffy.  And good luck."

Buffy gave a decidedly non-feminine snort and started off in the direction Spike had gone.

It wasn't long before she ran into him.  Or literally tripped over him.  She landed flat on her back, staring up at the black sky and into Spike's smug face.

"Graceful."

"Shut up, Spike.  Help me up."

"Why should I?" he said even as he offered a hand to her.  Once Buffy was back on her feet, he started picking grass and leaves out of her hair.

"What were you doing down on the ground anyway?" she asked as she batted his hands away.

"Thought I caught a scent.  Sporiv demon, smells like.  Nasty bastards.  They have disgusting acidy bodily fluids.  Ate right through a pair of my good boots once."

"And you think they're close?" Buffy asked, looking around.

"Scent's relatively fresh.  I'd say they were by here maybe an hour or two ago."

"Which way did they go?  And how do we kill them?"

Spike straightened up.  He crossed his arms and glared at Buffy.  "How do 'we' kill them?  So you're wanting my help now?"

"Don't make me hurt you, Spike."

"No.  I'm serious here."  He came closer.  "Why the hell should I help you, Slayer?"

"Because you have nothing better to do?"  Buffy crossed her own arms and stared him down.

"You're a right bitch, you know that?"

"And you disgust me."

Spike raised an eyebrow.  "Do I now?  That's not what you were saying a few months ago when you were all set to marry my disgusting self."

"Need I remind you that was a spell?"  Buffy turned away and started walking.  "So the S'more demon went this way maybe?"

Spike jumped in front of her.  "Yeah, wanting to marry me was part of the bird's spell.  But wanting to snog my face off was not."

Buffy pushed past him.  "Oh please.  You were as grossed out as I was when Willow lifted the spell."

"Yeah," Spike said softly as he fell into step with her.

They walked through the cemetery in silence for a while before Buffy looked over at him.  "So why all the anger tonight?  Not that I care or anything."

"'Course not.  Why the hell would you care?"

"Well, I think we just established that I don't.  Still.  What's going on with you?"

Spike swiped his fingers over a headstone and brought them to his nose.  "Demon's been here.  We're on track."  He sighed.  "Not sure.  I just saw you standing there, looking all perky and pretty and untouchable, and it pissed me off."

"What?  You think I'm pretty?  Uh.  I mean…  It's not my fault you were chipped, Spike."

Spike rolled his eyes.  "I know that, Buffy.  Still, not being able to fight you—or any human—properly wears on a fellow, you know?"

Buffy stepped over a dead floral arrangement.  "But you can still fight demons.  Doesn't that help?"

"Some," he said.  He pointed off to the right.  "That way."  They switched directions.  After a few moments, he continued.  "But it's not enough.  I'm nobody's white hat.  I'm in it for the violence only.  But I miss the talking."  He jumped in front of her again.  "Like you and I used to do.  You were all 'Do we really need weapons?' and I got to make the sexual innuendos.  It was fun."

"Wait.  Fighting me was fun?"  Buffy shook her head, confused.

"Oh come on.  Admit it.  It was fun for you too."

"Whatever, Spike.  Let's find this demon, okay?  I'm tired."

Spike stepped back.  "I think he might be in that crypt over there."

"So what do we do to kill it?  The usual?"  Buffy dug through her bag for a couple stakes.

"Beheading is usually the best way to go.  Though staking it probably won't hurt.  It won't go all 'poof' though.  And it might ooze a bit.  Watch your shoes."

"Check," Buffy said, throwing him a stake.

Very quietly they moved to the crypt.  Buffy mouthed "one, two, three" and they kicked the door open.  The Sporiv demon was apparently asleep on top of a sarcophagus.

"See?" Spike whispered into Buffy's ear, raising goosebumps on her neck.  "Where's the challenge?"

"You hold him down while I stake him," Buffy whispered back.  

"Right," he said and Buffy could smell beer and something like cloves on his breath.  Surprisingly, it wasn't a bad smell.

Spike thought she was pretty?

Buffy shook the thought off and moved to the other side of the demon.  She raised her stake and aimed before nodding to Spike.  He reached down and pinned the demon to the stone.  Buffy paused.

"Is it wrong that I feel a little guilty for killing this guy in his sleep?" she asked Spike.  "I mean, shouldn't it be a fair fight?"

"Bloody hell, Slayer!  Just do it!"

"Yeah.  Why am I asking *you* about a fair fight?"

Spike let go of the demon's shoulders.  "Hey, I fight fair."

"Fair by whose standards?"

While Buffy and Spike argued over him, the demon woke up.  His club-like hand reached up and fastened itself around Buffy's neck.  She 'urk'ed in surprise and stared wide-eyed at Spike.  Without hesitating, Spike grabbed the stake from Buffy's hand and shoved it and his own into the demon's chest.  He jumped back to avoid the demon's acid blood.

Buffy felt the Sporiv's grip loosen and she broke free, gasping for air.  "Shit!  My skirt!" she yelled, swiping at the demon goop eating its way through the fabric. 

Spike dove around the sarcophagus and tore the skirt off of her.  "You stupid bint!  It's acid.  Don't touch it!"

Spike threw her skirt into a corner of the crypt.  Buffy stared at him in shock.  She also felt faint relief that she'd worn her new panties.  Then she realized she was standing there in just her sleeveless top and said panties while the remains of the demon dripped onto the floor and Spike frankly appraised her legs.

"No burns," he said.

Buffy tugged at the hem of her shirt.  "Well, yeah.  And thanks, I guess.  But what the hell am I supposed to do now?"

Spike smiled very slowly.  "I've never seen a Slayer in just her knickers before.  It's a sight I won't be forgetting anytime soon."

"Shut up, Spike, and give me your coat."

"My what?"

"Your coat!  Give it to me."

"Hell no.  Why should I give you my coat?  I'm enjoying the view."

Buffy stepped right up to him.  "You'll give me your coat or I'll yank it off you myself.  Right before I dust you."

"Idle threats, Slayer."

"Try me."

Her body was practically pressed to his.  She felt like her nerve endings were exploding.  Was it because Riley had been gone a week?  Or was it because it was Spike?   It was like her body remembered his somehow.  Remembered the feelings Willow's spell had created.  Remembered how his mouth felt on hers…

Buffy stepped back quickly.  Spike's eyes had gone dark.  He pulled her back to him and captured her mouth with his.  Buffy's heart sped up and her stomach fluttered as she felt herself melt into him.  His lips were so soft; his mouth, greedy.  She felt his fingers slip under the edges of her panties to caress her bottom and she ground herself against him.  

Fortunately—unfortunately?—sanity returned like a slap to her face.  Buffy pulled away suddenly and covered her mouth with her hands.  "Oh God," she whispered.

Spike shrugged his coat off his shoulders and held it out to her.  When she just stared at him, he shook it and said, "Take it.  Put it on."

She finally took the coat and wrapped it around herself.  "Thanks," she said.

"Yeah," he said uncomfortably.

"That was…"

"I don't…"

"That didn't just happen."

"Got it."

Buffy backed away toward the crypt's entrance.  "No one will know about this."

"Hell no!  Wouldn't want anyone knowing anyway.  Ruin what's left of my reputation."

"Just so we understand each other."  She glanced over her shoulder as she moved up the steps, praying she didn't trip.  "I'll get your coat back to you soon."

Spike nodded.  "No worries, Buffy.  Uh, Slayer."

"Thanks for your help tonight, but maybe patrolling together isn't such a great idea."

"Agreed."

"Good.  So I'll kill my demons and you'll kill yours."

"Yep."  Spike gestured at her.  "Toss me my fags before you leave, won't you?"

Buffy froze.  "Your what?"

"My smokes?"

"Oh!"  Buffy dug through the coat's pockets until she located his pack of cigarettes and his lighter.  She threw them to him.

Spike lit up.  "Thanks.  So I'll be seeing you.  Or not."

"Uh, yeah.  I've got to just…  I'm going now."  She turned away and practically ran out the door.

When Buffy got home, she folded Spike's duster and put it on the chair next to her bed.  She'd drop it off at his crypt in the morning before her mom woke up.  No need to run the risk of bumping into him or having to explain things to Joyce.

Before she slipped into bed, she checked her calendar.  Riley would be back in two weeks and four days.  Two weeks and four days.  Not that long.  She'd be fine until then.  She would.

She fell asleep, the taste of Spike still on her lips.


	2. Kiss Me Once

When We Fight  
  
A/N: This story seems to want to continue, so here we go! This chapter is still PG-13, but that rating may change in later chapters. Thanks for the reviews I've gotten so far. They've really helped me decide to go on with this.  
  
Chapter 2 – Fallout  
  
"I am not avoiding," Buffy said firmly.  
  
"Oh, you so are," Willow said. "You've been avoiding any and all mention of Riley since that night we went to the Bronze."  
  
"Nooo, I just haven't had anything to say about him. That's lack of information, not avoiding."  
  
Willow sipped her latte and looked around the Espresso Pump before focusing on Buffy again. She lowered her voice. "Are you and Riley having problems?"  
  
"No!" Buffy said quickly. "No problems. Why would you think that?"  
  
Willow gave her an "oh please" look.  
  
Buffy sighed. "Okay. We're not having problems, exactly. I'm just not missing him like I thought I would. He's coming back in three days and I'm not all excited. I think there's something wrong with me."  
  
Willow covered Buffy's hand with her own. "There's nothing wrong with you, Buff."  
  
Buffy thought back to her kiss with Spike. Now *that* was wrong. "I hope you're right," was all she said.  
  
"Tara and I are going Bronzing again tonight. Wanna come with?"  
  
Buffy shrugged. "Maybe I'll catch you guys after patrol."  
  
Willow stood and drank down the last of her coffee. "Okay. We'll look for you. I'm off to meet my little honeybunny now. Though she hates it when I call her that."  
  
Buffy sat up straighter. "And that's another thing. No pet names. I have *no* desire to give Riley a pet name."  
  
"Not everyone is a pet name person, Buffy." Willow squeezed her hand. "It will be fine. You'll see him again and everything will fall into place." She picked up her bag and put it over her shoulder. "See you later?"  
  
"Yeah. Maybe," Buffy said. "Bye Will."  
  
Buffy sat and stared at her coffee cup for a long time.  
  
Patrol was kind of boring alone, Buffy thought. Especially when the bad guys refused to respond to her banter. This vamp she was fighting only seemed to grunt and drool. And fall down easily when she punched him. Where was the fun in that?  
  
Shaking her head, Buffy finally gave up and staked him. As his dust settled on the grass, she wondered if maybe she should just go to the Bronze and try to have fun there.  
  
She looked up quickly when she heard whistling. Her heart started jumping when Spike, carrying what looked like a bag of groceries, came into view. He stopped short when he saw her.  
  
"Slayer..."  
  
"Spike..."  
  
"Didn't know you'd be here."  
  
"I didn't mean to..."  
  
"Long time no see." Spike set his bag down on a bench and dug in his coat pocket for a cigarette.  
  
"Yeah," Buffy said, looking down at the ground.  
  
"Thanks for getting my coat back to me."  
  
"Yeah, well, it was the least I could do. Or something."  
  
Spike blew smoke into the air and tried to catch her eyes. "Is this as weird for you as it is for me?"  
  
Buffy couldn't help it. She laughed. "It's definitely filled with weirdness."  
  
"Soldier boy back yet?" He sat on the bench.  
  
"Three days." Buffy sat down next to him.  
  
"You don't sound real thrilled about that, love."  
  
Buffy looked up quickly and pointed at him. "Do not analyze me, Spike. And don't call me 'love'."  
  
"Okay. Okay," Spike said, putting his hands in the air. "Making an observation, is all."  
  
"Well, don't make them out loud."  
  
Spike flicked his cigarette to the grass and ground it out with his boot heel. "Right," he said. He slapped his knees and stood. "So I'll be on my merry way."  
  
He reached for his bag, but Buffy grabbed it too, stopping him. "Wait."  
  
"Wait for what, Slayer?"  
  
"For, I don't know." She stood and looked him in the eye. "It was wrong, Spike, what we did. Wrong on so many levels I don't even know where to begin. But the worst part? What I actually felt? Not so wrong."  
  
"Yeah," Spike said quietly. "I felt that too."  
  
"But I've almost convinced myself it was some kind of fluke. The night air, the thrill of demon hunting, the full moon... Any one of those things could be the reason why kissing you affected me the way it did."  
  
"Think so?" Spike tilted his head, considering her words. "I did have two JDs that night."  
  
"Right," Buffy said, getting into it. "So I was moonstruck and you were drunk."  
  
"Takes a lot more than two JDs to get me *drunk*, I'll have you know."  
  
"Work with me, Spike."  
  
"Oh. Right. Moony you, drunk me."  
  
Buffy pointed at the sky. "So, no moon tonight. Have you been drinking?"  
  
"Not alcohol," Spike said with a sly smile.  
  
"I'll pretend you didn't say that."  
  
Spike laughed.  
  
Buffy glared at him, then went on. "So if we're not being affected by anything outside ourselves, kissing you should just repulse me."  
  
"Hey!" Spike said.  
  
"And if I'm repulsed, things will go back to normal." Buffy steeled herself. "Kiss me."  
  
"What? You want me to what?"  
  
"Kiss me. Just do it. I have to know."  
  
"What the hell do you think I am, Slayer? A science experiment? There's no way I'm gonna jump when you say..."  
  
Buffy grabbed his lapels and shut him up with her mouth.  
  
Shit, Buffy thought. No repulsion.  
  
His mouth fit hers as well as she remembered. And his lips actual were that soft. Oh, and his tongue... Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike's head, trying to pull him closer.  
  
Spike's hands slid down her back and pulled her pelvis to his. He was definitely not repulsed either, Buffy noted, feeling his hardness grind into her. She wrapped a leg around one of his.  
  
Their lips parted for a second, just a breath apart. Spike's tongue touched the corner of Buffy's mouth. She groaned and pulled him to her again. He tasted of cigarettes and blood and even that didn't stop her from kissing him as deeply as she possibly could. She wanted...she wanted...  
  
She wanted to kick herself, that's what she wanted. They separated as quickly as they had come together, each stumbling a bit.  
  
"What the bloody hell was *that*?" Spike asked, breathing hard.  
  
"It's a spell. It has to be a spell," Buffy said as she paced. "Willow wouldn't... Someone else. Someone else has put a spell on us." She stopped and grabbed Spike's arm. "What kind of enemies have you made lately? Who would want to do this to us?"  
  
"Me?" Spike said. He looked down at her hand still on his sleeve. "Why does it have to be my enemies doing this?"  
  
"I'm just trying to figure this out, Spike," Buffy said. Her voice was rising in pitch. "Why aren't we grossed out? Why do I want to do it again?"  
  
"Why won't you let go of my arm?" Spike smirked at her.  
  
Buffy started and quickly pulled her hand away from him. "How can you joke? Isn't this freaking you out too?"  
  
"Well, yeah. But not as badly you, apparently. There's always been something between us, Buffy. Since the beginning."  
  
"Death wishes! There were death wishes between us!"  
  
"Hate's just the other side of love, you know."  
  
"No! I love Riley!"  
  
Spike crossed his arms. "Riiight. Then you'll fight me if I do this." He reached out, cupped the back of her skull and brought her mouth to his again. Buffy kissed him back fully, fisting her hands in his coat. Eventually Spike lifted his head. "Yeah, you're completely enamored with Soldier Finn," he whispered in her ear.  
  
Buffy shoved him away from her violently. "Go to hell, Spike," she spat. "I know this is a spell. And when I find out who's doing it, they will pay." She stalked away from him.  
  
"You do that, Slayer," Spike called after her. "It's been so long for you, you don't recognize lust when it smacks you in the face. No spell needed for that."  
  
Buffy ignored him and walked faster. 


	3. Spelling it out

Thanks so much for the encouraging reviews. Reviews make me giddy!  
  
Chapter 3 – Spelling it out  
  
The Bronze was loud and stuffy. Buffy pushed through the bodies as she searched for Willow. She bumped up against the bar and waved the bartender down to ask for a glass of water. Maybe it could wash the Spike taste out of her mouth. The bartender slid a full glass to her and she chugged it down.  
  
"Where's your boyfriend?" the bartender asked.  
  
"What?" Buffy said, looking around again for Willow.  
  
"Your boyfriend? Blond guy, English accent, likes black?"  
  
"He is so *not* my boyfriend," Buffy told him. "Why would you think he was my boyfriend? All we do is fight. And, well, kiss, but that's *wrong* and my real boyfriend will be back in less than three days and why am I telling you this?"  
  
"Comes with the job."  
  
"Buffy? Buffy! Over here!"  
  
Buffy turned away from the bar to see Willow waving frantically at her. "Thanks for the water," she told the bartender before weaving her way through the crowd to get to Willow and Tara's table.  
  
Buffy sat down on the stool next to Tara. "Hey guys. Is it abnormally crowded in here tonight?"  
  
"Last fling before school starts again," Tara said.  
  
"Also, free nachos." Willow grinned as she popped a cheesy chip into her mouth.  
  
"Mmm. Cheese," Buffy said. She reached across Tara to pick up a chip for herself. While chewing, she asked, "Willow, you haven't been doing any—spell experiments lately, right?"  
  
Willow quickly looked at Tara. "What do you mean, Buffy?" she asked too casually.  
  
"Oh my God, you have," Buffy said. "Are you doing this to me?"  
  
"Wait. What? Tara and I have been, uh, experimenting a little, but we haven't done anything that would affect you. At least I don't think so..."  
  
"How can I tell if I'm under a spell?" Buffy broke in.  
  
"There is that thing," Tara said, looking at Willow.  
  
"Yeah, that spell that reveals spells, though it's not exactly a spell. More like a trance-y ritual thing."  
  
"How do I do it?"  
  
"Why do you think there's a spell on you?" Tara asked.  
  
"I've been doing—things. Things that are so unlike me. Things that I don't think I'd ever consciously choose to do," Buffy said. She played with the rings on her fingers, avoiding their looks.  
  
"What kinds of things?" Willow asked.  
  
"That's not really the point," Buffy said. "The problem is that I don't think I'm in control of my actions. And that's scaring me a little."  
  
"No details?" Willow asked.  
  
"Uh, not at this time. Do you think Giles is still at the Magic Box?"  
  
"Not this late." Willow reached across the table to catch Buffy's hand. "What's going on?"  
  
Buffy looked around at the crowded club. "Can we talk outside?"  
  
"Yes, of course," Tara said as Willow nodded. The three women stood up and made their way to the exit.  
  
Once outside, the sudden quiet made Buffy's ears ring. Or at least now she could hear them ringing. She turned to her friends.  
  
"Promise me you won't tell *anyone*. Not even Xander."  
  
"Buffy, you're starting to wig me out." Willow laughed nervously.  
  
Buffy almost smiled. "Sorry for the excess drama. Okay, so a few weeks back, do you remember how Spike was all snippy with me? When we were here at the Bronze while Tara was gone?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, I planned to go straight home that night, but I bumped into him when I was taking over patrol from Giles, and we kind of... Well, we ended up killing this demon and we kind of... Wekissed," she finished in a rush.  
  
"Spike?" Willow squeaked. "You kissed *Spike*?"  
  
Buffy looked a little sick to her stomach. "Yes. I kissed Spike that night."  
  
"Oh my," Tara breathed.  
  
"What's even worse is that I kissed him again tonight."  
  
"Again?! No wonder you think you're under some kind of spell! Why are you kissing Spike?"  
  
"Well, he is kind of cute, if you like vampires and, uh, guys," Tara said.  
  
"Sweetie, that's so not helping."  
  
"I don't know why I kissed him. That's the problem! One minute we're fighting and the next we're playing tonsil hockey."  
  
"Eww on the visual, Buff," Willow said.  
  
"Help me?" Buffy asked in a tiny voice.  
  
"Do you really *want* help?" Willow asked.  
  
"Of course!" Buffy said. "Riley's coming back! I can't be kissing Spike."  
  
Willow and Tara exchanged a look. "It's okay, Buffy. We'll help," Tara assured her.  
  
"First thing in the morning," Willow said. "After a good night's sleep. Okay, Buffy?"  
  
"Yeah. A good night's sleep sounds like great Buffy medicine right about now. I think I'll head that way. Thanks, you guys."  
  
Tara touched her shoulder. "It will be all right. I know it."  
  
Buffy said her goodnights and watched her friends as they went back into the club. Then she pulled a stake out of her back pocket, took a deep breath and started walking home.  
  
"Mom?" she called after opening the front door. "Are you back yet?"  
  
Buffy checked the kitchen and found a note. It said there was leftover pizza in the fridge and that Buffy shouldn't expect Joyce home from the showing at the gallery before midnight. Buffy looked at the clock. Eleven forty-five. It felt so much later.  
  
She opened the refrigerator and rummaged around for the pizza. She was just pulling the box out when she heard a noise on the back porch. It sounded kind of "thump"-y.  
  
Quickly closing the fridge door, Buffy searched around for a weapon. The pencil her mom had used to write the note was on the counter, so she grabbed it and made her way to the back door. She pushed the curtain aside and looked out. Only darkness. She reached for the outside light and snapped it on.  
  
"Oh my God," she said before flinging the door open. "Spike, what the hell are you doing on my back porch?"  
  
Spike looked startled. "Me? Nothing," he said. "Just out for a walk."  
  
"A walk that goes through my back yard?"  
  
"Why the hell not? It's a nice yard."  
  
Buffy sat on the steps. "Oh please. Come on, Spike. Fess up."  
  
He sat next to her with a put-upon sigh. "Didn't like how we left things, Buffy."  
  
Buffy rested her chin in her hand and said, tiredly, "No other way to leave them, Spike."  
  
"Bollocks."  
  
Buffy sat up straight. "What? You think I'm gonna dump Riley for you? You—this dead, sun-allergic, blood-drinking, evil guy? When Riley's dependable and honest and kind to animals and sweet and..."  
  
"And boring."  
  
Buffy smacked Spike on the shoulder. "Not boring! Reliable."  
  
Spike turned to face her more fully. "Yeah. A regular Boy Scout, our Riley. Oh, come on Buffy! Let's be serious here. The boy wonder just doesn't do it for you. If he did, you wouldn't be kissing me."  
  
"*Kissed*. I *kissed* you. Once."  
  
"Twice."  
  
"Okay, twice."  
  
"And I'll be damned if you're not going to do it again."  
  
Buffy gave him a look.  
  
"All right. You got me there. But I know you won't be able to stop yourself from kissing me—and maybe more."  
  
Buffy stood. "It's time for you to go, Spike."  
  
"Come on, Slayer. Tell me it's not the truth."  
  
"It's not the truth. Leave."  
  
"A snog for the road, love?" Spike grinned up at her.  
  
"Why do English people call kissing 'snogging' anyway? The word sounds too much like 'snot'."  
  
"Oh! And the American 'making out' is sooo much more refined."  
  
"—and no. Nothing for the road but my fist propelling your face away from me."  
  
Spike pouted as he stood. Then he shrugged. "Oh well. Gave it my best shot."  
  
"That was your best shot?" Buffy asked. "How completely—lame."  
  
"Maybe not my best shot after all," Spike said softly. He raised his hand to gently trace the shape of Buffy's face. He lightly touched his fingers to her lips. Buffy stared at him with wide eyes.  
  
Spike moved his fingers to cup her chin and lowered his face to hers. She held her breath. I'll pull away any second now, she thought. Spike's mouth hovered over hers. Buffy's eyes slowly closed.  
  
Suddenly his hand was gone. "Night, Slayer." Spike waved without looking back before disappearing into the bushes.  
  
"Shit," Buffy said.  
  
She covered her face for a moment. When her pulse slowed to normal, she went back into the house.  
  
Pizza. She'd eat the whole damn pizza.  
  
Buffy walked into the Magic Box at nine sharp the next morning. Willow and Tara were already there, surrounded by stacks of dusty-looking books.  
  
"Anything?" Buffy asked them. She sat down at the table and pulled one of the larger books towards her.  
  
"Not really," Willow said.  
  
"We did find that trance thingy, if you want to try that," Tara offered.  
  
Giles came out of the training room and waved briefly to Buffy before climbing the stairs to the upper level of the store. Buffy waited until he was completely out of earshot before she whispered, "You guys didn't tell Giles any of this, did you?"  
  
"Well, not exactly. We told him you thought someone might have put a spell on you, but that's about it," Willow whispered back.  
  
Buffy relaxed a little. "Oh, good. And he didn't ask what kind of spell or anything?"  
  
"I think he's really involved in something right now, Buffy," Tara said. "He's been w-wandering around and mumbling into books since we got here."  
  
"Really? Huh."  
  
"So that trance ritual thing? Do you want to try it?" Willow asked.  
  
"If I can do it somewhere other than here, yes I want to try it."  
  
"Okay, well, the thing is, if you think the spell's on you, someone else has to do it. To *see* the spell around you."  
  
"I feel a big 'but' coming up right about now. Please don't 'but' me Willow. I don't think I can handle it today."  
  
"Sorry, Buffy. *But* --"  
  
Buffy stuck her fingers in her ears. "La-la-la! I can't hear you!"  
  
"What on earth are you three going on about down there?" Giles called from the top of the stairs.  
  
"Buffy doesn't want my 'but'," Willow told him.  
  
Giles froze for a second before shaking his head. "I'm sure I don't want to know." He came down the stairs and disappeared into the training room again.  
  
"BUT," Willow said, pulling Buffy's fingers out of her ears, "we need to have Spike there in case the spell's on him too—or on him alone and affecting you for some reason."  
  
"Who cares if the spell's on Spike?" Buffy whined.  
  
"Well you should, missy," Willow said. "Because if there really is a spell, we need to break you both of it or the kissing will go on. Though maybe not consensually."  
  
"You're joking, right? Tell me you're joking."  
  
"She's not joking, Buffy. This could be kind of serious," Tara said.  
  
Buffy stood up. "Fine. You two gather what you need for the ritual. I'll get Spike and meet you back at my house."  
  
Willow stood too. "You sure about this, Buffy?"  
  
"Will, Riley's home the day after tomorrow. I want this all straightened out before he gets here. So yes, I'm definitely sure about this. Meet you in half an hour."  
  
She headed for the front door. "Oh," she said, turning, "please don't say anything to anyone else? And thanks."  
  
With a sharp nod, she left. 


	4. Revealed

So, to recap...  
  
This takes place the summer between Seasons 4 and 5. Riley is in Iowa (buh- bye!), Buffy's kissing Spike (with lots of tongue) and is sure she's under a spell (a lurve--or at least a lust--spell). Willow and Tara and their mad witchy skillz to the rescue! Still a measly old PG-13 for the moment. But never fear. *wink*  
  
Chapter 4 – Revealed  
  
Buffy didn't bother knocking on Spike's crypt door. He was asleep on a sarcophagus with a blanket covering him. Did vampires get cold at night? Or, uh, during the day? She poked his shoulder. Nothing. She tugged the blanket down a bit. Spike just grasped it tighter and rolled over.  
  
"You'd make a lousy watchdog," Buffy mumbled to his back. She thought about sliding her hand under his shirt because Willow did that once to her when she was late for class and God! her hands were cold. But when she touched the back of Spike's neck, she found his skin was already cold. "Ah. So the blanket *isn't* just a comfort thing." But he hadn't felt cold last night. Maybe it was a blood thing. If he fed, his body warmed up or something. And when he hasn't fed for a while...  
  
Frustrated with her wandering mind, Buffy gave Spike a rough shove. Rougher than she intended, actually, since it sent him sliding off the sarcophagus and into the wall.  
  
"Whoopsie."  
  
"Bloody hell! What did you do that for?!"  
  
Buffy was mostly relieved that Spike slept in his clothes. And that was enough thinking about that.  
  
"I tried to wake you nicely, but it didn't work."  
  
"So you use your super Slayer strength to flatten me into the wall?"  
  
"You are not flat."  
  
Spike looked down at the front of his jeans. Then he smiled and winked at Buffy. "Well, I'm not flat there, now am I?"  
  
"With lines like that, it's a wonder you *ever* got anyone to sleep with you. Except, of course, you've actually only had insane and completely self-absorbed women fall for your, uh, charms."  
  
Spike scooped the blanket up from the floor and threw it on top of the sarcophagus. "Which category do you fall in then, love?"  
  
Buffy pointed a finger at him. "I have not fallen for you. Don't delude yourself."  
  
"Fair enough. So you're here for the atmosphere since it's not the company you seek?"  
  
"No." Buffy stepped back and crossed her arms. "I need your help."  
  
Spike stuck a finger in his ear and jiggled it around. "Sorry. What did you just say?"  
  
"I need your help, okay? Don't make it a big thing."  
  
Spike laughed. "The almighty Slayer comes bursting into my home wanting my help and I'm not supposed make it a 'thing'. Oh, this is rich."  
  
Suddenly Buffy had her hand on his throat and his back against the wall. "I don't have the time or patience for your comedy routine, Spike. You can either help me because you want to, or help me because I *make* you. Your choice. And I'm being very generous here because you're really pissing me off."  
  
"Fine, Slayer. What is it you want me to do?"  
  
"Come to my house. Willow and Tara are going to do some ritual to find out if we're under a spell."  
  
Spike's hand grabbed the one Buffy had at his neck. He broke her grip and twisted her arm behind her back, bringing their bodies together. Buffy froze, shocked by how quickly he'd moved.  
  
"Ow, Spike," she told him calmly.  
  
"Now you know how it feels," he said. As he spoke, his breath stirred her hair. She could feel every ridge of his abdomen pressing into her own. He breathed reflexively when she breathed. Her breasts rubbed against his chest.  
  
"Stop?" she said.  
  
"Make me," he said before his mouth covered hers.  
  
Buffy fell into the kiss. Her brain shut down. Only the taste of Spike registered. Oh, and Spike letting go of her arm. Which meant she was free. So she should push him away. And she so would. In a minute.  
  
But instead, Buffy's arms reached up to encircle Spike's shoulders. She felt him move his hand between them. His thumb brushed her nipple and something clenched inside her. He did it again and she couldn't stop herself from making a small sound. When he cupped her breast and lightly squeezed, she could swear something burst in her. God, she wanted him.  
  
And that thought was as good as a cold shower. Buffy pulled away. Spike slumped against the wall.  
  
"Your house?" he asked, his voice a little strangled.  
  
"Yes. Now. The least flamey way." Buffy clasped her hands together to stop their shaking. She still wanted to touch him.  
  
Spike pushed off the wall. "Down through the sewer tunnels, then. Incredible network of them all over the city. Makes daytime travel a lot easier for us combustible ones."  
  
"So I've heard," Buffy said. "You lead."  
  
When Spike turned his back, she dragged her fingers across her mouth. It upset her to find that she was rubbing the wetness in, rather than wiping it off.  
  
They came up through a manhole at the end of Revello Drive. Spike climbed out first, a heavy blanket covering most of him. He reached a hand down to help pull Buffy up. She hesitated for just a second before taking it. Touching Spike seemed to lead to bad things lately. He released her as soon as she climbed out, though, and started racing towards Buffy's house.  
  
Buffy caught up with him on her front porch. His blanket was smoldering a bit, but otherwise he seemed fine. She stepped around him to unlock the door.  
  
Spike followed her inside without hesitation. "So where are the witches?" he asked.  
  
"They should be here any minute, I think."  
  
Spike smiled at her. "I've always wondered what your bedroom looks like, love. Want to show me?"  
  
Buffy put her hands up. "No! Absolutely no bedroom showing. Now stop looking at me like that and sit down before I stake you."  
  
Spike threw himself down on the couch. "Gettin' *real* tired of that threat," he grumbled.  
  
Buffy felt her whole body sag with relief when the doorbell rang. She practically ran to open the door.  
  
"Willow! Tara! Come in!"  
  
"Hey, Buff. We got the stuff," Willow said.  
  
Tara giggled. "You make it sound so clandestine!"  
  
Willow smiled at Tara before handing Buffy one of the bottles of colored sand she was carrying.  
  
"We need to do this in a quiet place where there won't be any chance of us being interrupted. When does you mom get home?" Willow asked Buffy.  
  
"Not until four, I think," Buffy said.  
  
Spike came up behind her. "Ladies."  
  
"Your bedroom door has a lock on it, right?" Willow asked.  
  
"It does," Buffy said hesitantly.  
  
"Guess I'll be seeing your pink frillies after all, huh Slayer?" Spike said.  
  
Buffy ignored him. "Do we need to do it in my bedroom? Really?"  
  
"Well," Willow said, "we could do it in your mom's, but she might be a little suspicious if there's sand in her carpet and the smell of incense in her curtains."  
  
"Fine. My room," Buffy said. "Let's get this over with."  
  
Buffy refused to look at Spike while Willow and Tara set up the ritual. They poured a circle of sand and lit four sticks of incense. The smoke made Buffy cough.  
  
"Maybe it would be better if you two waited in the hall," Tara said. "Will needs absolute quiet to slip into the trance."  
  
Buffy coughed again. "Yeah. Maybe the hall is a good idea. Move, Spike." She lightly shoved Spike through the doorway and closed her bedroom door.  
  
"You don't have to shove," Spike said. "Ever occur to you that if you asked nicely, people would be a lot more willing to put up with your bitchiness?"  
  
"What the hell are you talking about, Spike?"  
  
"You. Being a bitch. Very nearly all the time. 'Cept when you're kissing me. But then you're double the bitch once the snog is over."  
  
"Screw you."  
  
"Don't think there's time for that right now, pet. Maybe once the birds are done with their little..."  
  
Buffy punched him in the nose.  
  
"Ow! What the fuck did you do that for?"  
  
"You idiot! We *hate* each other. There's a spell on us. And you're joking about sleeping with me!"  
  
She held her hand up as Spike opened his mouth. "I swear if you're about to say something about not having 'sleeping' in mind, I will send you through that wall."  
  
Spike closed his mouth and crossed his arms.  
  
Buffy's bedroom door opened. Willow stepped out. Her pupils were dilated and she moved as if she were wading though something thick. She moved towards Buffy and Spike.  
  
"Willow?" Buffy reached for her friend, but Willow shook her head.  
  
"Don't touch me. I'm not sure what that would do to you."  
  
Buffy looked at Tara, who was still standing in the bedroom doorway. Tara didn't seem upset, so Buffy pulled her hand back and did as Willow asked.  
  
"What do you see?" Buffy asked Willow.  
  
Willow studied Buffy for several moments. Then she shifted her focus to Spike. "I see the energy from Spike's chip. But other than that, nothing."  
  
"Nothing? Nothing as in you can't tell what kind of spell we're under?"  
  
"No, Buffy. Nothing as in there is no spell."  
  
"That can't be right," Buffy said. "Are you sure what you're seeing around Spike is his chip and not a spell?"  
  
"Very sure," Willow said. "If you were under a spell, the energy around you would be bright red. There's no red. Just the green from the electronic pulses in Spike's chip."  
  
"That does sound very clear," Tara agreed. "Sorry, Buffy."  
  
"No! I can't accept that!" Buffy said. "There has to be a reason why I'm kissing Spike!"  
  
"'Cause I'm bloody irresistible, is why," Spike said.  
  
"If there's no spell, then why do you want to kiss me?" Buffy asked him.  
  
Spike shrugged. "You're hot."  
  
"Oh. My. God." Buffy gave them all a panicked look before taking off down the stairs. She ran out the front door without bothering to close it behind her.  
  
When she got to the sidewalk, she stopped. She shoved her hands in her hair. "Shit," she said. "Now what?" 


	5. Where You Gonna Run?

Author's note: Rating change! From here on out, this puppy is rated R. All underage kiddos, please hide your blushing eyes.  
  
WHERE YOU GONNA RUN?  
  
Buffy called her mom from a payphone at the library. It was a little after 4:00, but no one answered the phone. Joyce was probably still on her way home. Buffy left a message saying she'd be over at Xander's watching movies. She hung up and went back to the overstuffed chair and the pile of fashion magazines she'd been losing herself in since running out on her friends and Spike.  
  
Spike. Buffy was no closer to figuring out what to do about him and these *feelings* for him she still had. Bad feelings. Because they were about Spike. And not about Riley. She leaned her head against the back of the chair and covered her face with the latest Cosmo.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
Buffy sat up quickly, the magazine sliding down into her lap. "Giles?"  
  
Giles had an extremely puzzled look on his face. "I had no idea you even knew Sunnydale had a public library."  
  
"What? I read. Sometimes. For fun! Yes. I read for fun."  
  
Giles's look changed from puzzled to skeptical. "*You*--Buffy Summers-- read for fun."  
  
Buffy turned the magazine towards him. "And look! Pretty pictures."  
  
Giles sat in the chair next to hers. "Seriously, Buffy. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Can't a girl hang out at her local library?"  
  
"Most girls, yes. You, no."  
  
Buffy sighed. "You got me, Giles. I'm being all avoidy. Some strange—things—have been happening to me lately. I asked Willow to find out why. I didn't like her answer. So I ran away like a little running away Buffy."  
  
"Shall I ask what things in particular?"  
  
"No offense, but I really don't want to go into it. Nothing Slayer related. Suffice it to say, I've gotta figure it out on my own. But thanks for caring." Buffy smiled at him.  
  
"Of course I care, Buffy. I always care."  
  
"Thanks, Giles. That means a lot to me. And I hope you know that if I need Giles-style helpage, I'll be knocking on your door."  
  
"I have no doubt." Giles stood. "I'll let you get back to your 'reading'."  
  
"Don't forget the pretty pictures."  
  
"How could I?" Giles touched her shoulder. "Shall we train tomorrow? We really need to address the way you consistently drop your shoulder."  
  
"I so do not! But yes, let's train."  
  
"See you then."  
  
"Bye, Giles."  
  
He nodded and left. But the sanctuary feel to the place was gone for Buffy. She actually had no intention of spending the evening watching movies in Xander's basement—at least not this evening. Instead, Buffy felt a decisive need for some alcoholic libations. Drowning her sorrows in cups of frosty nectar. That sounded like just the thing to do. The bar off campus didn't card. She'd head over there.  
  
She ignored the voice in her head that screamed "alcohol and Buffy baaaad" and stacked the magazines neatly. She checked her watch. By the time she walked over there, happy hour would be starting. Two-for-one drinks and free pretzels. What more could a girl ask for?  
  
The bar was filling up. With school starting in a week and a half, a lot of the students were moving back into town and looking for entertainment. After only two margaritas, Buffy was finding nearly *everything* damn entertaining. Especially the guys throwing darts over in the corner. They couldn't hit the bull's-eye if they walked right up to it and poked the dart in there. Buffy pushed off her stool and decided to show them how it was done.  
  
"Hi, boys," she said, walking up to them. They looked at each other and then turned to her with huge grins on their faces.  
  
"Hey you pretty little thing. Looking for some company?" the taller one asked. His dark-haired, shorter friend laughed.  
  
"Actually, I noticed you can't seem to throw that dart straight to save your life. Want a pointer or two?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Baby," the dark-haired one said, "I'd love to put my pointer in *you*." He elbowed his friend in the ribs. They both laughed.  
  
Buffy stared at them coolly. "Just give me a dart, Casanova."  
  
"If I do," the taller one said, "will you let me buy you a drink after we play?"  
  
Buffy shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"  
  
He gave her the dart. She could see the doubt on their faces. They were humoring her. Which did humor her. She let the dart fly. It went straight through the bull's-eye and embedded itself far into the wall behind the board.  
  
"Woah."  
  
"Do that again."  
  
"I want my drink first," Buffy said. This was gonna be fun.  
  
Three margaritas and seven shattered darts later, Buffy was feeling no pain. She couldn't say the same for the dark-haired guy. His friend had to take him to the emergency room when Buffy lost control of one of the darts and it landed in his shoulder. She was all kinds of apologetic, but the two of them just backed away from her. She didn't realize a guy that big could cry that much.  
  
"Who wants to play me next?" she called out to the crowd. No one stepped forward. Buffy shrugged and aimed for the sad remains of the dartboard. A cool hand grasped her forearm and stopped her throw.  
  
"Think you've hurt the poor board enough for one night, pet," Spike said into her ear.  
  
Buffy swung around. "What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
"Free country, last I checked. Actually, I was looking for you."  
  
"Well, look somewhere else," Buffy said. She pushed his hand off her arm.  
  
"Willow and Tara are worried about you, Slayer. The way you ran off this morning."  
  
"Yeah, well. I think they're wrong. There *is* some kind of a spell on me. I know there is. Or I wouldn't be thinking about you all the time!" She dropped the dart to the floor and raised her fingers to his lips. "I think about your mouth. How it feels on mine. How it would feel on other parts of me."  
  
Spike's eyes darkened. He got very still despite the noise and bodies surrounding them.  
  
Buffy took his hand and fit it to her own. "I think about your hands. You have really nice hands. I like the way they touch me. I like the things they make me feel."  
  
Spike bit his lip. His hand grasped hers.  
  
Abruptly, Buffy pulled away. "So see? It has to be a spell. Because you stand for everything I'm against, Spike. You're a killer, you're soulless and you're evil. I'm supposed to stake you—chip or no chip. Yet all I want to do is this." She grabbed his face and kissed him. She could taste his last cigarette and was sure he could taste the alcohol on her breath. But she was beyond caring. His mouth. So damn good...  
  
"Outside," he said, pulling back.  
  
Buffy's lips were still parted from the kiss. "Wha?"  
  
"Outside. Now."  
  
He grabbed her hand and dragged her out the front door. Once they were out of the loud and crowded bar, he continued to pull her along behind him until they were on campus. Spike found a tree and pushed Buffy up against it.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked him.  
  
"I'm gonna fuck you. And you're gonna love it."  
  
He grabbed the hem of her jeans skirt and hiked it to her waist. He covered her body with his as his fingers slid under the elastic of her panties.  
  
"Mmm. Wet and ready for me."  
  
Spike pinched her nub gently. Buffy jumped. "Spike, we can't. Spike. Riley's my..." Spike slid a single finger into her and caught her as her legs started to buckle. "Spike, I can't do this with you. You need to stop." She grabbed his wrist.  
  
He looked into her eyes. "Buffy."  
  
Oh God, she was going to regret this in the morning. But at this point and with this much alcohol in her system, she didn't really care. "Okay, Spike," she finally said, releasing his wrist. "Let's do it. Fuck me."  
  
"Even though you're drunk?"  
  
She wrapped her arms around him and bit his earlobe, hard enough to make him groan. "Yeah, even though. Or maybe because. Oh, just come on." She lowered her voice, striving for sexy. "I know you want to."  
  
"Well, not denying that, obviously," Spike said. "Just don't want you staking me tomorrow."  
  
Buffy licked his bottom lip. "Please," she said.  
  
Her "please", so very rare from Buffy, did it. Still holding her against the tree with one arm wrapped around her waist, he used his other hand to undo his belt buckle. Buffy unzipped him while he worked the button. And then he was free and hard and soft all at the same time in Buffy's grip. She squeezed him gently, then harder. His appreciative moan actually made her wetter. Part of Buffy's fuzzy brain realized they were out in the middle of the campus green where anyone could see them. Another part thought, well then, forget the foreplay and get him in me.  
  
Buffy shifted her hips and placed him against the damp silk of her panties. She used him to stimulate herself before moving her panties aside and positioning him where she needed him. He prodded her a bit and then finally pushed his way inside. The feel of him was overwhelming. Buffy caught her breath.  
  
"Too much?" he asked.  
  
"No, just not used to you."  
  
"Farmer boy a bit smaller then, huh?"  
  
Buffy let that go because Spike's fingers were also beneath her panties now. "Tear them," she said.  
  
"You want me to tear your knickers?"  
  
"Yes. Get them off me. Now."  
  
"Yes ma'am." Spike ripped them down one side so they hung against her other leg, but it didn't matter. He could touch and move in her freely now and they weren't her favorite pair anyway.  
  
Spike pushed into her forcefully, his fingers moving in time with his thrusts.  
  
"Knew you'd feel this way, Slayer. All hot. Muscles grabbing me. Fuck me back, little girl."  
  
Buffy dug her nails into his coat and sunk down as he rose. She never knew she liked it rough, but this hard, fast pounding was bringing her right to the edge.  
  
"Kiss me," Spike said. She did. And then he moved his fingers a certain way and she was coming. Her mouth went slack against his.  
  
Suddenly, Spike turned them and they fell to the grass, still joined. Her legs tightened around him as he drove into her. "Feel it, Buffy? Do you feel me now? So deep..."  
  
Her orgasm over, Buffy could feel her stomach rebelling against the margaritas. And the ground was hard. And Spike was in her. Good God, Spike was in her.  
  
Spike ground his pelvis into hers and let himself go. She could feel his ejaculations pulse into her. His body shook through his release and her body gave off little aftershocks in response. When he finished, he collapsed on top of her.  
  
"God, I haven't..." Spike mumbled into her shoulder.  
  
"You're heavy," Buffy said. "Move."  
  
Spike rolled off of her and zipped up. "So much for the afterglow."  
  
Buffy sat up. "I think I'm gonna be sick."  
  
Spike sat up too. "Oh please. It was a damn fine shag and you know it."  
  
"No, Spike. I really think I'm gonna be sick. Everything's all spinny."  
  
"Like you're gonna sick up?"  
  
Buffy managed to nod before turning her head and empting her stomach all over the grass. Spike caught her hair and held it away from her face.  
  
"Oh God," Buffy said when there was nothing left in her, "I drank too much."  
  
"Did you eat anything at all?" Spike asked.  
  
"Some pretzels?"  
  
"Stupid bint. Come on. I'll get you home."  
  
Spike stood and grabbed Buffy's elbow to pull her to her feet. "I don't think I can stand," she said, sagging against him.  
  
Spike picked her up and was about to throw her over his shoulder when she stopped him by digging her hands into his hair. "I wouldn't do that. Not unless you want me decorating your trademark coat with bile."  
  
He hesitated only a second before switching her so that she rested in his arms. She held him around his neck to keep from falling. Her stomach hurt and her eyes wouldn't stay open, and soon she felt her head drop to Spike's shoulder.  
  
"Almost there, pet," she thought she heard him say. But it wasn't until she heard her mother's voice that she raised her head.  
  
"Is she okay?" Joyce asked.  
  
"Don't know about in the morning, but for now, she probably just needs some sleep," Spike said.  
  
"Sleep good," Buffy mumbled. She put her head back on Spike's shoulder.  
  
"Spike, I hate to ask you this, but could you..."  
  
"Sure, Joyce. I'll take her to bed. Uh, to her bed." Buffy nearly laughed.  
  
Spike managed the stairs and made it to her room. He laid her down on the bed and pulled her boots off. Then he pulled her quilt over her.  
  
"Spike," Buffy said as he turned to leave.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I won't stake you tomorrow. Promise."  
  
"Appreciate it, love."  
  
"And thanks for getting me home."  
  
"Sure thing."  
  
Buffy sighed deeply and closed her eyes. The room was still spinning a bit, but she was too tired to try to stop it.  
  
When she opened her eyes again, it was morning. 


	6. Epiphany' is a Big Word

Disclaimer: Still not mine. Happy to play with them though. ;)  
  
Chapter 6 – 'Epiphany' is a Big Word  
  
Buffy's head hurt. "Guess Slayer healing doesn't cover hangovers," she said out loud as she rolled out of bed. She lay flat on her back on the floor for a moment before her encounter with Spike the previous night washed over her. She couldn't decide if she was more embarrassed, humiliated, disgusted with herself or sore.  
  
"Oh God," she said to the ceiling. "What did I do?"  
  
Finally, she stumbled into the bathroom where she downed four Advil with three glasses of water. Then she splashed her face and brushed her teeth. Feeling presentable enough to attempt a trip downstairs, she stepped out into the hallway...  
  
...and bumped into her mother.  
  
"Buffy Anne Summers," Joyce said.  
  
"Mom!"  
  
"What on earth were you doing *drinking* last night? And with *Spike*?"  
  
"Well, technically I wasn't drinking with Spike..."  
  
"You are only nineteen years old!"  
  
Buffy squared her shoulders. "Mom, with what I face every single day, underage drinking is such a *normal* thing for me to do. It should make you happy!"  
  
"Oh no, young lady," Joyce said, wagging her finger in Buffy's face. "You can't use the 'I save the world. I deserve a drink' argument on me."  
  
Buffy put her hands on her mom's arms. "I know it was wrong of me. Oh so very wrong. I guess I was, uh—lucky?—Spike came along when he did."  
  
"Spike still surprises me," Joyce said, calming down. "And you won't get drunk like that again?"  
  
"Last night was a mistake. A big mistake. A *surprisingly* big mistake..."  
  
Joyce seemed satisfied by her answer. "Okay. I'm glad that's settled. Let's go have breakfast."  
  
"Uh, Mom? Food and hung-over Buffy? Not really mixy things."  
  
"Oh," Joyce said. "I guess not. Well come into the kitchen when you're ready, okay?"  
  
Buffy gave her a quick hug. "Thanks, Mom. I love you."  
  
"I love you too, honey. I just worry."  
  
"It's what you grown-ups do best," Buffy said. Suddenly she panicked. "Grown-ups! I was supposed to meet Giles to train this morning! What time is it?" She grabbed her mother's wrist and looked at Joyce's watch. "Ten thirty? I better run."  
  
Ignoring her aching head, Buffy ran back into her bedroom to throw on some sweats. Joyce followed her. "At least take an orange. You'll be hungry later."  
  
"I'll grab one on my way out." She pulled a tank top over her head and kissed her mom on the cheek. "See you later."  
  
"Remember I have to go to New York this afternoon through the weekend!" Joyce called after her.  
  
"I remember!" Buffy raced down the stairs, detoured through the kitchen to grab an orange from the bowl on the counter and ran out the front door.  
  
This is good, she thought forty-five minutes later as she punched a well- padded Giles in the courtyard in front of his apartment. Working out the aggression, no Spike thoughts except *that* one and the one of the way he—no! No Spike thoughts. Just lots of violence.  
  
She kicked out and sent Giles flying into an azalea bush.  
  
"Oh God! Giles, I'm sorry."  
  
"No problem. No problem. Just please help me up." She pulled him out of the bush. Dark pink flowers were clinging to his hair. She tried to brush them away, but Giles held her hands still.  
  
"Ah, thank you," he said. "We really do need a proper place to train. Though my neighbors evidently don't exist, anyone could pass by while you're pummeling me and take offense."  
  
"Yeah, plus I don't think the broad sword was meant to be used to prune trees. Even accidentally." Buffy unwrapped the tape from her hands. "Think we've done enough for today?"  
  
"Indeed. My ribs thank you," Giles said. He gathered their weapons together and looked at her for a second before asking, "Would you like to come inside for something to drink? Or perhaps to talk?"  
  
"Thanks, Giles," Buffy said. She took the weapons from him. "I'll help you with these, but then I need to motor. I've got some serious new school clothes shopping to do."  
  
"Ah yes, your college courses begin again next week," Giles said. He opened his apartment door and Buffy followed him inside. He pointed to the couch, wanting her to place the weapons there, before continuing on to the kitchen. "And doesn't Riley return to town very soon?" he asked.  
  
"Tomorrow, actually," Buffy said, laying the weapons down.  
  
"Funny," Giles said, pouring himself a glass of water, "you don't sound as happy about that as I thought you would. Are things all right between you two?"  
  
"Oh sure. Things are hunky dory. Just keen." She sat on a bar stool at the kitchen counter. "But maybe without the peachy. I don't know, Giles. I'm afraid I might be having feelings for someone else. Bad, wrong, terrible feelings."  
  
"Terrible feelings?"  
  
Buffy shrugged.  
  
"I'm not sure I'm qualified to be having this conversation." Giles put his empty glass in the sink and came around to sit next to her. "Well, at the risk of sounding very old, I can tell you these things happen to people your age. I remember falling in and out of love very quickly when I was nineteen."  
  
"Maybe that's part of it. Am I actually *in* love with Riley? Is that why I'm doing the things I'm doing—so I can give him an excuse to break up with me?"  
  
"Do you want to tell me who this other person is?" Giles asked gently.  
  
Buffy closed her eyes for a second. She so did not want to tell him. "It's complicated, Giles."  
  
"Everything is at nineteen."  
  
"Okay, enough with the 'nineteen' stuff. I do know how old I am, chronologically." She sighed and laid her head down on the countertop. "For once I really wanted a normal relationship, you know? With a nice, sweet, alive guy. And I'm afraid I've completely messed that up."  
  
Giles patted her back. "Buffy. You'll do what's right. You always do. Of that I have no doubt."  
  
She sat up. "Thanks, I think." She pushed off the barstool. "I better go spend money. Push all this stuff aside for a while."  
  
"Off with you then. Save the economy!"  
  
Buffy patted his shoulder. "See you later, Giles."  
  
She meant to go to the mall. She really did. Which was why she was so confused when she found herself opening Spike's crypt door.  
  
He was sitting in his easy chair, watching a game show on TV. He turned his head to look at her.  
  
"Buffy," he said.  
  
"Hey."  
  
He stood and snapped off the television. "Come to stake me, have you?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Dramatic much, Spike? No. I told you I wouldn't and I won't. Not for last night."  
  
"Well. Good. Wasn't sure you'd remember that conversation in the bright light of morning."  
  
"I remember too much about last night."  
  
"Ah, so now the regrets."  
  
"It can't happen again, Spike. Riley comes home tomorrow."  
  
Spike dropped himself into his chair, sprawling comfortably. "And what ever gave you the impression *I* wanted it to happen again? I had you, Buffy. It was entertaining. Never fucked a Slayer before."  
  
Buffy felt the breath leave her lungs. Why the hell did it hurt so much to hear him dismiss it that way?  
  
"Oh. I get it," she said when she finally found her voice. "So we have an understanding. This dies here. No one ever knows."  
  
"Right by me."  
  
Buffy nodded. She turned to go.  
  
"Buffy..." Spike said.  
  
She hesitated, waiting for him to speak.  
  
"Didn't mean to hurt you."  
  
Buffy's knees nearly buckled under the amount of humiliation she felt at that moment. But she stood very straight and said, "Fuck you, Spike. Like you could ever hurt me."  
  
She didn't look back. She slammed the crypt door behind her. The echo of it followed her out of the cemetery.  
  
Buffy waved as Joyce rode off in the airport shuttle. She'd been left with a list of chores and a very empty house for three days. Well, empty until Riley came back tomorrow. Then he'd want to stay over since they hadn't seen each other in so long. Buffy rubbed her eyes. She didn't know how to do this. Or what exactly *this* was.  
  
She wandered back into the house and up to her room. She closed the drapes and climbed into bed. And she finally let herself think.  
  
So she'd kissed Spike and had sloppy, hard and fast, drunken sex with him. Spike had no interest in repeating the adventure. She was good with that. Fine with it. Wonderful with it! Riley would be back tomorrow. Safe, kind Riley who was so undemanding in every way. She could have sex with him. She would have sex with him. Because he was her boyfriend. And if she had to finish herself off in the bathroom later, so be it. Besides, there was no way her memories of what happened with Spike were accurate. Everything was exaggerated by the amount of alcohol that had been in her bloodstream. It was the only explanation.  
  
He'd never fucked a Slayer before.  
  
Feeling beyond dirty, Buffy threw back the covers and went to shower.  
  
Once her hair and body were clean, she wrapped herself in her favorite blue robe and sat down on her bed to call Willow.  
  
Willow picked up on the first ring. "Buffy?"  
  
"How did you know it was me?"  
  
"I've been answering every phone like that all day long. Where were you?? Where are you now? Are you okay?"  
  
"Um, bar on campus getting drunk, home and fine physically since the Advil kicked in."  
  
"Tara and I moved back into the dorm today," Willow said. "We thought you wanted to help."  
  
"You moved in today? Then why are you at home?"  
  
"Picking up a few last things. You just caught me."  
  
Buffy played with the tie from her robe. "Sorry, Will."  
  
"Hey, it's okay. So why the bar and the drunkenness? Was finding out there wasn't a spell really that horrible?"  
  
"Today, it seems very low on the horrible scale," Buffy said with a small laugh. "But last night, yeah. It was horrible enough."  
  
"You didn't *do* anything last night, did you? We asked Spike to keep an eye out for you. Did he find you?"  
  
"He found me. And you were right. There's no spell. So I'm worry-free girl! Worry-free girl whose boyfriend is due back around noon tomorrow."  
  
"Have you told Riley any of this?" Willow asked softly.  
  
"No. There's nothing to tell," Buffy said. "Hey, Will? Can I come by your room tomorrow and help you unpack? Before Riley gets here?"  
  
"We're pretty much done already, but thanks for the offer. I'll give you our new phone number."  
  
Buffy wrote the number down. "Thanks," she said. "Well, I think I'm going to sleep a while. Maybe patrol later."  
  
"Okay," Willow said. "Are you sure you're all right? You sound a little off."  
  
"Yeah. I'm fine. Just really, really tired. Say hi to Tara for me, okay? Tell her I'm sorry I ran out on you guys?"  
  
"It's no problem, Buffy. We just worry about you."  
  
"It's a common thing lately. Actually, I'm a little worried about me too. Hopefully sleep and some good boyfriend hugs will fix that. Night, Willow."  
  
"Night, Buffy."  
  
Buffy hung up and curled up under her covers, robe and all.  
  
When she woke, the clock said three am. She could get a good two hour patrol in before sunrise.  
  
She dressed quickly and went downstairs to the kitchen for a bottle of water. She was opening the refrigerator when she heard creaking noises outside. On the back porch. Buffy rolled her eyes. Not again.  
  
She whipped the back door open and stepped out. "Spike, now what?" she said. But the figure in the corner wasn't Spike-shaped. "Riley?"  
  
"Didn't mean to scare you, Buffy," Riley said, stepping forward. "I got back early and I wasn't sure if you'd be out patrolling, so I thought I'd wait."  
  
"On my back porch? At three in the morning?"  
  
Riley laughed and ducked his head. "Well, I really missed you."  
  
Buffy tried hard to squash the irritation she felt. Now she wouldn't be able to patrol. And obviously, Riley would want to make with the smoochies, and she so didn't want his smoochies tonight.  
  
"Can I come in?" he asked.  
  
Buffy stepped back into the kitchen. "Of course!" She let herself be enveloped by Riley's hug. "It's so good to see you," she said into his chest.  
  
Riley let her go and moved past her into the house. Buffy took a last look around the backyard. She sniffed. Was that cigarette smoke? She was about to go out into the grass when Riley's voice called her inside. Reluctantly, she closed the back door and went to join him.  
  
"You didn't tell me your mom was going to be gone all weekend," Riley said. They were sitting on the couch, Riley's arm wrapped around her, her head in the hollow of his shoulder.  
  
She glanced up at him. "Didn't I?"  
  
"No. I think I would have remembered that."  
  
"Hmm," Buffy said, noncommittally.  
  
"Did you still want to patrol?"  
  
Buffy shook her head. "Nah. It's too close to sunrise now. Sleepy time for nocturnal nasties."  
  
"Sorry I messed that up for you."  
  
Buffy sat up and looked at him. "No, really. It's okay. I'm glad to see you. See? This is glad-filled Buffy."  
  
Riley slid his palm from her shoulder to her hand. "Should we go to bed then?"  
  
"Oh!" Buffy said. "Bed. Yes. We should go to bed."  
  
She let Riley pull her to her feet. He stood there, waiting for her to take the lead. She reached up on tiptoes and kissed him. It was nice. She took both his hands and led him upstairs to her bedroom.  
  
Buffy couldn't sleep. The sun was coming up. Riley was snoring beside her. And she felt like crying.  
  
Sex with Riley was—sweet. He always asked if what he was doing was right, if Buffy liked it, if she wanted more or less of anything. And if he tackled it a little like a mission, he at least saw it through to the end.  
  
Buffy pushed the covers off and slid out of bed. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes to hold off any tears. It wasn't that she didn't care about Riley. She did. She really did. But now she knew what it was like to let loose without worrying that the Slayer in her would hurt someone. And though she knew Spike was completely wrong for her, she also now knew Riley wasn't completely right. 


	7. Propositions

A huge thank you to the people who have left such lovely reviews. You all make my day brighter.  
  
I did want to warn the Riley haters out there, I don't bash. Riley wasn't evil on the show; he's not evil in my fic. Just needed to throw that little disclaimer out there...  
  
Hope you like it.  
  
Chapter 7 – Propositions  
  
"I have to go back to my apartment to unpack," Riley said. He was sitting at the kitchen island. Buffy leaned against the counter, chewing on a dry bagel and staring into the backyard through the window over the sink. "I basically dumped my stuff and sprinted over here."  
  
"Hmm," Buffy said.  
  
"So then I decided to become a monk and shave my head and I really don't think you're listening to me."  
  
Buffy nodded absently.  
  
"Buffy?" Riley said, raising his voice a bit.  
  
"I heard you Riley. But I'm not sure a big brown monkish potato sack is really a good look for you."  
  
"You look like you're miles away." He came around the island to stand next to her. He looked out the window too. "What's out there that's got you so fascinated?"  
  
"Nothing now," Buffy said. "I'm just thinking about—stuff."  
  
"What kind of stuff?"  
  
"Stuff stuff," she said, turning to look up at him. "So you need to go pack? I mean, unpack?"  
  
"I do." Riley pulled her in for a kiss. Their lips touched lightly before Buffy moved back.  
  
"That works for me. I was able to get a corner single at the dorm, so I'll need to start packing my stuff up here to get it over there by Monday."  
  
"You didn't tell me you got a single room," Riley said. "Not that I don't think that's great and all."  
  
"Sure I told you. I mean, I must have told you. Didn't I tell you?"  
  
"I think I'd remember news like that." Riley seemed a little hurt.  
  
"Sorry, Riley," Buffy said. She stepped out of his embrace and squeezed his hand. "My bad. It was hard to remember everything when we talked on the phone."  
  
"Yeah, all five times we talked."  
  
Buffy let go of his hand. "What does that mean?"  
  
"Nothing. It's just, I thought you'd miss me more. That you'd want to talk to me more often. I missed hearing you voice. But I don't think you missed hearing mine."  
  
"I did miss you, Riley. I did." She kissed his cheek. "Let's not argue about this now, okay? Go unpack. I'll go pack. And we can meet up later."  
  
Riley crossed his arms. "Is that what we're doing? Arguing?"  
  
"We will be if you don't let this go," Buffy said, more sharply than she intended.  
  
Riley closed his eyes for a moment and then gave her a tight smile. "Understood. I'll be getting out of your way now." He turned and left the kitchen, heading for the front door.  
  
"Riley..." Buffy called after him.  
  
He opened the door and looked back at her. "No, really. It's fine, Buffy. Hey, maybe we could meet up at the Bronze later? I was thinking about giving Graham a call."  
  
"Sure. That'd be great." She went up to him and gave him a hug. "Are we okay?"  
  
"Yeah," he said into the hair on top of her head. "Just gotta get used to each other again, right?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
He kissed her softly. "I'll call you about the time later."  
  
Buffy waved him down the front walk before closing the door. She leaned against it and mentally yelled at herself. What the hell was she doing? Here was this really nice, great guy and all that was racing though her head was God, I wish he kissed like Spike.  
  
She took several deep breaths and went upstairs to tackle her closet.  
  
She had moved from her closet to her drawers and was picking through her underwear when the phone rang. She looked at her clock. 6:30! No wonder she was so hungry. She grabbed the phone right before the answering machine picked up. It was Riley.  
  
"How does the Bronze at seven sound?" he asked.  
  
"Make it seven thirty and I'll be there clean and smelling pretty."  
  
"Seven thirty it is."  
  
Buffy hung up and looked at the disaster that was her room. She just needed to figure out which pile of things she intended to take with her, which pile was to donate and which pile was going to be shoved back into her closet. Glancing at the clock again, she picked something to wear off the closest pile and ran to the bathroom.  
  
Buffy dabbed at her lip gloss and checked herself out in the mirror one last time. Her red top draped across her breasts and was held up by spaghetti straps. Her black pants fit her snugly and looked excellent with her fashionable, yet slaying-friendly, boots. She tucked a stake into her back pocket and decided she was ready.  
  
The Bronze was even more crowded than the last time she'd gone. Buffy had an idea of where Riley would be—over by the pool tables—so she made her way through the crowd to get there. Her heart seemed to stop for a moment when she thought she saw platinum blond hair. That she *wasn't* ready for. But before she could find out if the hair was Spike's, Riley appeared in front of her.  
  
"Wow. You look unbelievable," Riley said. He hugged her and slung an arm around her shoulders, directing her to where Graham waited.  
  
"Hi, Buffy," Graham said, offering her a beer.  
  
Buffy waved the beer off. "Thanks anyway, Graham. How's the new and hopefully improved Initiative treating you?"  
  
"Well, um, that's classified."  
  
"Of course it is." Buffy turned back to Riley. "Did you get your unpacking done?"  
  
"I did. And actually, there's something I wanted to ask you, though now is probably not the best time."  
  
"Ask me?" Buffy felt the beginnings of panic flutter in her stomach. "Why don't you ask me to dance?" she asked quickly.  
  
Riley handed his beer bottle off to Graham and led Buffy out to the dance floor. A fast song was just finishing up. Riley twirled Buffy a few times before drawing her in close as a new, slower song began. Buffy could hear the thudding of his heart as he pressed her head to his chest. She was a little startled when Riley pulled back from her.  
  
She looked up as she heard Riley say, "No you sure as hell *can't* cut in. Get lost."  
  
Buffy moved away from Riley to see who was trying to dance with her. "Spike," she said before she could stop herself. It came out a lot breathier than she wanted it to.  
  
"Buffy," Spike said. "Thought it'd be a lark, you and me cutting a proverbial rug. But Cro-Magnon Man won't hear of it. He book all your dances for you?"  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Spike?" Riley shoved Spike's shoulder. "There's no way Buffy would ever dance with—"  
  
Buffy put her hand on Riley's arm. "Riley. Really, I don't mind. It's just one dance."  
  
Riley stared at her. "What? You want to dance with this undead joker?"  
  
"Spike and I have some—unfinished business to talk about."  
  
"What's going on with you, Buffy?" Riley asked her. "I was only gone a month and it's like you're a stranger to me."  
  
"Riley, please. I'll explain everything later. Just do this for me, okay?"  
  
Riley stepped back and put his hands in the air. "Fine. Dance with him. But I'm not about to watch."  
  
Buffy started to go after him as he walked away, but Spike took her hand, stopping her. "Song's nearly half over already, pet. Let's not waste the rest, shall we?"  
  
She allowed him to lead her further onto the crowded dance floor. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to draw her body against his. She put her hands on his biceps to keep some distance between them.  
  
"What game are you playing now, Spike?"  
  
"No game, love. Just saw you and felt like dancing with you."  
  
"Is that right?" Buffy asked skeptically.  
  
He brought his mouth to her ear and lightly bit her lobe. "Wanted another taste of you," he said.  
  
Buffy pushed him away. "No. You had your taste. It's done."  
  
"Changed my mind," Spike said as he reached for her again. "Haven't *really* tasted you yet."  
  
"You are so not drinking from me."  
  
Spike smiled slowly and put Buffy's left hand on his shoulder before clasping her right and putting it against his chest. "Your blood's not the taste I'm wanting." He ground his pelvis into hers suggestively.  
  
"Spike, no."  
  
"Buffy, you should know by now you can't hide it from me. I can smell how much you want me."  
  
"Gross, Spike."  
  
"But true." They were just barely moving to the music. He lifted her chin with their combined hands, forcing her to look at him. "Maybe there is a spell because I was sure I'd gotten you out of my system. Then I saw you standing here, all golden and beautiful and I needed more."  
  
"Don't tell me these things," Buffy said. "I don't want to hear them."  
  
"You don't want to accept them, you mean."  
  
"No. Riley's back. I can't be doing these things with you." She pulled her hand out of his. "I want a normal life, Spike. I want Riley."  
  
"No, Buffy. You want me. I want you. Maybe a proper fuck will finish this wanting."  
  
"No! We can't do that again!"  
  
Spike's hand slid down the back of her silky shirt to lightly cup her bottom through her black pants. He rubbed her gently against his erection. She closed her eyes slowly. When she opened them, Spike was looking at her very seriously.  
  
"One night, Buffy. Just one. Just to see."  
  
"To see what? That I can screw around on my boyfriend again? I'm not like that, Spike. In addition to all the obvious reasons why we can't—"  
  
Spike touched her, sliding his hand between them. Buffy's eyes opened wide as he cupped and squeezed her. "Stop it. People will see."  
  
"Then say it. One night. Say it, Buffy."  
  
"Dammit, Spike. Move your hand or I'll break it."  
  
"Don't want to make a scene, now, do we, Slayer? One night, Buffy."  
  
"Fine," she hissed at him. "Wednesday night. After patrol. I'll come to your crypt. You son of a bitch."  
  
"That's my girl," Spike said. He released her and brought his hand to his nose. He sniffed deeply and smiled. "Be prepared to spend the *whole* night, love."  
  
"You are disgusting. And I'm not your girl," Buffy said, her voice hard.  
  
"We'll see, won't we?" Spike said. He backed away from her and melted into the crowd.  
  
Buffy mentally shook herself and looked around. It didn't seem like anyone was looking at her in any particular way. Even so, she hated herself for being so reckless around Spike. If Riley had seen...  
  
She needed to find Riley.  
  
He wasn't with Graham. "He left," Graham said.  
  
"Where did he go? Did he tell you?" Buffy asked.  
  
"I'd leave him alone for a while, Buffy. He's not real happy with you right now."  
  
"Him and me both. What did he say?"  
  
"Just that you ditched him to dance with some creep. Don't hurt him, Buffy. You're everything to him."  
  
Buffy gave Graham a pained look. "Thanks," she said.  
  
She left the Bronze. This thing with Spike—it was some kind of temporary madness. And now she'd agreed to do the nasty with him. Again. But she had to know. Everything inside her was screaming at her that *anything* to do with Spike was wrong and bad, yet she knew he had a point. There had always been something between them—since the first time she saw him in this very alley. And for some reason, it was all coming to a head right now.  
  
Don't hurt Riley. Well, it was too late for that now, wasn't it?  
  
She wrapped her arms around herself and headed for home. 


	8. In with the New

Woo hoo! This story was nominated at the Vampire Kisses Awards!  
  
Chapter 8 – In with the New  
  
Riley was sitting on her front porch. He glanced up at her and then back down at his feet.  
  
"What the hell were you and Spike doing out on the dance floor?" he asked. His voice was flat.  
  
Buffy's stomach sunk. She so didn't want to do this. She sat down next to Riley and ran her hands through her long hair. "When?" she finally asked.  
  
Riley looked at her. "When? How about--at all? Why the hell did you want to dance with him?"  
  
Buffy was confused. "You're just asking why I let Spike dance with me?"  
  
"Is there something else I should be asking?"  
  
"No! No. Nothing else." Especially not about how Spike's shoulders felt under her hands or the way she wanted to pull him closer or how she wanted him to rub harder and make her come...  
  
"So? Do you have an answer?"  
  
Buffy looked up quickly. After a moment, she shifted so she was facing him fully. "Riley. Spike and I have been—patrolling together recently. He's not so bad."  
  
Riley jumped up. "Not so bad? My God! Buffy, he's a *vampire*! He's killed thousands of people and you're saying he's not so bad?"  
  
"He hasn't killed anyone since he got the chip," Buffy said in a small voice.  
  
"*Because* of the chip. Without that chip don't you think he'd be out there biting half the necks in Sunnydale?"  
  
"Probably," Buffy said grudgingly. "But he does have the chip and he's not biting anyone." She stuck her chin up. "I think he wants to help."  
  
"The day Spike actually wants to help and doesn't have some ulterior motive will be the day I drop dead," Riley said.  
  
Buffy wrinkled her forehead at that, unsure of how to respond.  
  
Riley stepped down onto the front walk. He turned to look at her. "This conversation isn't going anywhere tonight. I don't know what's going on with you. When you're ready to share it with me, you know where I'll be."  
  
Buffy let him go.  
  
***********************  
  
Joyce got home about an hour later, full of questions about Buffy's weekend and her time with Riley. Buffy neatly sidestepped the big issues and went up to bed.  
  
Sleep was a long time coming, though. She still had to pack; the whole thing with Riley; Spike... It all added up to a nearly sleepless Buffy. Finally, she drifted off.  
  
She knew she was dreaming because Spike was never this gentle with her— and her with him. He slid the strap of her blouse off her shoulder and down her arm. His lips followed, sending goosebumps down Buffy's neck. His thumb brushed one of her already peaked nipples. Her hands fisted in his soft hair before she drew his head down to her breast. He suckled her softly through the silk as his hand slipped into her pants. Just a little closer, she mentally urged him. Touch me there...  
  
She moved her hips, trying to position his hand just right. Her frustration grew as she ground against him. Why the hell wouldn't he touch her where he knew she needed to be touched? And where was that loud music coming from?  
  
Buffy groaned as she came awake to Britney Spears oopsing that she did it again. Buffy forced herself to stop dry-humping the bed. "Oh God," she said into her pillow before shutting the alarm off.  
  
Buffy!" Joyce called up the stairs. "Xander, Willow and, um, Tara are here!"  
  
Buffy pulled her pillow over her head, trying to calm her body and will the color out of her flushed cheeks. In seconds, someone was banging on her bedroom door.  
  
"Noooo," Buffy whined. She threw the pillow aside and sat up.  
  
"Rise and shine, Buffster!" Xander boomed as he came into her room. "We've got to get you... Good grief, Buffy. Did you pack at all?"  
  
"Wow, Buffy. What demon did you kill in here?" Willow asked with a smile. Tara gave Buffy a little wave.  
  
"The demon of procrastination," Buffy said, getting out of bed. "Obviously, I lost."  
  
"Well, I see a pattern of piles here. Just tell us what pile's what, pull out the suitcases and boxes and we'll pack while you shower," Willow said, shaking out a shirt she'd found on the floor.  
  
"You guys are too good to me," Buffy said.  
  
"How could I pass up the chance to go through your underwear with your permission?" Xander asked. He held up a pink thong. "Niiice."  
  
Buffy grabbed it out of his hand. Xander stepped back. "Okay," he said. "No jokes about the Slayer's unmentionables. Suitcases? Boxes?"  
  
Buffy gratefully showed her friends what to pack and escaped to the bathroom.  
  
*******************  
  
She planned to shower in cold water to make her skin tingle in a completely different way. But once she was under the spray, she figured who would know if she released a little tension? She touched herself. Her clit was still swollen and very sensitive. She rubbed herself slowly, bracing her hand on the cold tile wall. And in her imagination it wasn't her hand doing the touching—it was Spike's. His long, graceful fingers were the ones lightly pinching and teasing. Buffy leaned against the wall and brought her other hand to her breast. She flicked her nipple with a fingernail and the sensation went right to her clit. She sped up her movements, feeling herself getting closer. The image from her dream of Spike's head at her breast pushed her over the edge. She convulsed, cracking her head against the tile, but ignored the pain in favor of the pleasure. Of course, when the pleasure passed, she had to scrub herself extra hard to wash away that pesky feeling of guilt.  
  
Buffy finished showering and quickly dried and dressed herself. A quick blow-dry and a little makeup later, she was ready. She came out of the bathroom to see Tara zipping up a huge black duffle bag. Willow was standing nearby with an armload of clothes still on hangers.  
  
"We are ready to take trip number one," Xander said. Buffy thanked them again and reached for the bag on the bed.  
  
Xander brushed her hand aside. "Allow me," he said. He tried to lift it three times before giving up and turning to the three women who were standing by with amused smiles on their faces. "On second thought--Buffy, why don't you carry that? I'll get a couple of these boxes over here."  
  
"Good idea, Xander," Buffy said, trying hard not to laugh. "Let's do it that way."  
  
With hardly any effort at all, Buffy swung the bag over her shoulder and led the way out of her room.  
  
*********************  
  
After four hours, three trips and lots of unpacking, she and her friends were sharing a pizza on her dorm room floor.  
  
"Anya's not here to be all blunt, so I'll say it. Where's Riley?" Xander asked.  
  
"Long story," Buffy said through a mouthful of cheese.  
  
"Long story?" Willow asked. "Why? Why with the long story?"  
  
"He didn't find out, did he?" Tara asked. Realizing Xander was in the room, she quickly tried to change the subject. "Find out that you're, uh, allergic to—or no, that you're—that you bought him that hammer? Did he?"  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes as Xander frowned at Tara. "What on earth are you talking about? Buffy's allergic to hammers?"  
  
"Uh, no," Willow tried. "He doesn't know that Buffy bought him this totally *expensive* hammer and he'd be, uh, allergic to the price of it."  
  
Xander grinned. "Okay, is this a joke? What are you keeping from me? And don't tell me it's a hammer." He stopped for a second. "Wait. It's not Riley's birthday, is it? Is it Riley's birthday and I completely forgot? Anya's supposed to remind me of these things. Damn. I don't have anything for him."  
  
"No. Not his birthday," Buffy said. "It's a—hammer of affection. Yep. Good old affection-showing hammers. Gotta love them."  
  
Willow stood up. "We'd better go. Miss Kitty Fantastico needs her Fancy Feast."  
  
Buffy quickly wiped her hands on a napkin and stood too. "And I've got to go buy my books."  
  
Xander gathered up the trash. "Ahn's working at the Magic Box. I guess I'll go hang out there."  
  
"Thanks, you guys. You've been great. You have no idea how much I appreciate all this." Buffy said.  
  
"We Scoobies need to stick together," Xander said.  
  
Buffy heard Tara whisper to Willow, "Did he call me a Scooby?", as she walked them to the door. As they left, Willow mouthed "Call me". Buffy nodded absently and waved them down the hall.  
  
******************  
  
Buffy lugged a load of textbooks back to her room and dumped them on her bed. Why on earth had she taken World Philosophy? Seven books for that class alone! She sat down and started leafing through the books. Soon she was distracted by thoughts of the previous night. Would Spike have gone any further if she hadn't stopped him? And what the hell had possessed her to agree to a Wednesday night fuckfest? It was like she didn't know herself anymore. Like something inside her had broken loose.  
  
She shook herself out of her thoughts long enough to realize that the sun was setting and her stomach was growling. Loudly. She gave her mom and quick call and then tried to decide what to do for dinner. Another shower first, she thought, to clean off the grime from moving.  
  
Buffy had finished undressing and was pulling on a short pink robe when there was a knock on her door. Was it Riley? She hadn't heard from him all day. He did know she was moving. She went to the door, dreading having another "talk" with him.  
  
But it wasn't Riley. A very smug-looking Spike stood there instead. "Hello love," he said. "You know me. All impatient and whatnot. Couldn't wait until Wednesday. Care to let me in?" 


	9. Wednesday Means Monday

This chapter is actually meant to be more explicit than what I'm posting here.  If you'd like to read it in its entirety, please check out my new (basic) web site "When in Rome" at   triple w dot geocities dot com/ jfer1213/ whenwefight9.htm ( with three actual "w"s , real dots and without the spaces).

Again, thank you so much for the wonderful feedback I've been getting lately.  I appreciate it more than I can tell you.

**Chapter 9 – Wednesday Means Monday**

"Slayer?" Spike asked as Buffy just stared at him.

"Spike," she finally said.

"Buffy," he said, mock-gravely.  "Now we've got the niceties out of the way, let's move on to the entertainment.  Let me in."

"Do I *look* insane?"

Spike braced his arms on the doorframe, his black coat creating a curtain she couldn't see past.  He curled his tongue at her.  "Maybe not insane, but you can be pretty bloody wild."

"Spike, what the hell are you doing here?" she hissed at him.

"I think I made that plain.  I want what's promised me.  I just want it now."

Buffy heard a group of people coming down the hall.  She quickly said, "Get in here," and pulled Spike across the threshold.  She slammed and locked the door behind him.

Spike rubbed his arm.  "Not exactly the welcome I was expecting, but it'll do."

Buffy whirled around to glare at him.  "You are *not* welcome here.  What the hell is going through your pea brain, coming to my room like this?  I should stake you right now."

"Worried soldier boy's gonna find us?  Find out what little nasties we've been doing?"

"Don't talk about Riley," Buffy said.

"Fine by me.  I'd rather not talk at all."  Spike stepped closer and ran an index finger along the opening of her robe.  He palmed her bare skin there and she shivered at his cool touch.

"Why…" Buffy started.

"Because we're both the flame and the moth.  I want you.  You want me.  No spells, no alcohol, just us.  Wanting."  He drew her close and licked up the side of her neck.  When he reached her earlobe, he sucked on it for a moment before moving on to the line of her jaw.

 Buffy tried very hard to stay quiet, to feel unaffected by his mouth, but once his lips touched hers, a faint "mmmm" escaped.  Encouraged, Spike deepened the kiss.  Without conscious thought, Buffy wrapped her arms around his head.  She could feel her lip split beneath his teeth, but she only kissed him harder, as if she wanted to draw him inside her—or crush him.

Buffy suddenly shoved him away from her.  He flew back to hit the wall.  She wiped the back of her hand across her bloody mouth and carelessly rubbed it off on her robe.  Spike stalked towards her and grabbed her hand.  He brought it to his mouth and carefully licked all the remaining blood from it, his eyes never leaving hers.  When he finished, he grasped her chin and licked her lips too.

While he licked her, Buffy slid his coat off one of his shoulders.  He shrugged it loose and let it fall to the ground.  He stepped back from her to peel off his black t-shirt, exposing his leanly muscled chest.  Surprising herself, Buffy leaned forward and bit one of his nipples.  His groan definitely was not one of pain.  She bit the other one and raked her nails down his back.  

"Playing it rough now, are we pet?  I can do that," Spike nearly growled.  He put his hands on the sash of her robe and tore it apart.  The cloth parted, exposing her to him.

"Hey!" Buffy said.  

"I'll nick you a new one," he told her.  He brushed her hands away from the lapels and just looked at her.  Buffy flushed a little under his frank gaze.

Suddenly Spike wrapped an arm around her and brought them together, skin to skin.  They stared at each other, not much more than a breath apart.  She saw lust in his eyes and something more.  Something almost worshipful.  But maybe she only saw what she wanted to see?  She wondered what her eyes showed him.  Acceptance, probably, that this moment was inevitable.  And no small amount of lust either.  But knowing him, he probably smelled it on her already.

He slowly blinked at her.  "God help me, I want you so much," he said.  "Can you feel it?"  He rubbed their lower bodies together.  "Can you feel how much?"

"I'm guessing kind of a lot," Buffy said, a little breathless.  His erection ground into the softness of her belly.  She'd never felt anyone so hard.

"Buffy," he said.  His voice, his tone, the way he looked at her--at that moment, she gave in.

"I want you too, Spike.  More than I ever thought I could."

"Mmm, love.  Gonna be so good," Spike said.  He cupped her face and kissed her again.  It began softly but grew deep and frantic quickly.  

Buffy blindly reached for his belt and undid the buckle.  Spike helped her with the button and the zipper before leaning down to unlace and kick off his boots.  Buffy cupped his ass briefly before pushing his jeans down.  No pesky underwear for Spike.  And only lacy purple panties for Buffy.  Panties that Spike helped her out of quickly.  He pushed her robe off her shoulders and stepped back to look at her.  "I knew…  I thought…"

Buffy watched her hand reach out to slide along his erection.  He was thick, uncircumcised.  She thought about how he'd felt in her before.  She wanted to know how he'd feel without the alcohol fuzzing her brain.

**CUT**

Spike dropped quick, deep kisses on her mouth as he moved inside her.  Buffy's eyes opened wide then fluttered closed as he filled her completely.  Spike stopped, whispering her name.  "Buffy.  Look at me.  See me."

"I see you, Spike," she whispered back as she really looked at him.  The expression on his face was somewhere between intense concentration and absolute pleasure.  He smiled at her.  

"We're doing this, yeah?" he said.

"Oh God, yeah," Buffy agreed.  "But do it harder."

"Your wish and all that rot," he said before pulling out and slamming back into her with incredible force.  Buffy gripped his shoulders.  Her pelvis rose to meet his.  She squeezed her muscles around him and enjoyed the resulting tremors that shook his body.  "So fucking tight.  Never want to leave…"

**CUT**

They both collapsed onto the bed when he was done, still connected.

"Oh God," Buffy breathed.  She pushed wet hair away from her sweaty face.  Spike pulled her even closer and rolled them onto their sides.  

"Give us a minute.  We'll have another go," Spike said into her neck.

Buffy laughed, and it was a happy sound.

**CUT**

She lay on top of him, her face pressed into his neck, and fought just to breathe normally.

"I knew it was good with you.  I never knew how good it could get," Spike said into her hair.

Buffy slowly pushed up on her elbows to look at him.  "Because you never fucked a Slayer before," she said, narrowing her eyes.

Pain and regret crossed his face.  "I'm sorry, love.  Sorry for saying that.  I knew you were coming to give me the brush off and I wanted to hurt you back a little."

"I know," Buffy said.  "It's what we do—hurt each other."

"Not anymore," Spike said.

Buffy rolled off of him and put an arm across her eyes.  "I wish I could believe that."

Spike rose up next to her and gently moved her arm.  "Buffy, do believe it.  Because I think I'm—"

She quickly put her hand over his mouth.  "Don't say what I think you're going to say.  Just don't.  Can't we enjoy this for a while?  Without complicating it up any more than it already is?"

Spike's eyes hardened slightly.  "Sure.  Right.  Whatever you say, Slayer."

"Spike…"

"No, really.  You're right.  Come here and let me lick you clean."

Buffy let him, relieved and also disappointed that she had stopped him from saying the "l" word.  Spike was an incredible lover, but he was still soulless.  Still evil.  Still a vampire.  And she was still—and always would be—the Slayer.

But as Spike's tongue did wonderful things to her body, she gave the thinking part of her brain a rest.  Tonight was for pleasure.  The inevitable pain could wait until the morning.

Buffy came awake slowly.  She was wrapped in Spike's arms and pressed back fully against his body.  She could feel his erection rubbing her from behind.  He kissed her neck.  She was amazed at all the bodily fluids they'd exchanged through the course of the night.  But not more blood.  He hadn't asked and she hadn't offered.  But the way he sucked at her neck now, she could tell how very much he would've wanted it.

She rolled over to face him, breaking the suction of his mouth.  "Hi," he said.

She smiled.  "Hi."

"Sun's up," Spike said, jerking a thumb at the closed blinds.  "Guess I'll just have to stay the day and have my nasty way with you some more."

"I have my first class of the semester in—"  She checked the clock.  "—an hour.  Time enough for something quick maybe?"

Spike brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her.  She felt her body respond instantly.  In fact, she was so wrapped up in her reaction to him that she didn't hear the knock on the door at first.  

"Buffy?  You in there?"

Buffy froze.  She pulled back from Spike quickly.  "Riley!" she hissed.

"So?" Spike said, trying to bring her mouth back to his.

"No!"  She pushed at him.  "You have to get out of here!"

"Where am I gonna go?  Daylight, remember?"

Buffy rolled out of bed and threw his jeans at him.  "Then—get in the closet.  I'll get rid of him."

Spike slowly pulled his jeans on.  He was pissed and she knew it.  But she wasn't ready for "the" confrontation yet.  "Hurry up!"

She turned to the door before scooping her robe up and wrapping it around her.  "Just a minute, Riley!  I was about to get into the shower."  She pushed Spike into the closet.  He made another grab for her and kissed her collarbone.  "Quit!  It!" she said, removing his hands from under her robe.  She pulled away from him and closed the closet door in his pouting face.

Buffy smoothed her robe and her hair.  She straightened the sheets and kicked Spike's boots and t-shirt under the bed.

"Buffy?" Riley said again through the door.

"Coming!" she called.  She did another quick sweep of the room and went to let Riley in.

"Hey," he said when she opened the door.  She turned her cheek to him for his kiss.  "I was hoping we could talk."

"Can we do it later?  I have a class in a little while and I really need to shower."

"Uh, yeah, I guess so."  He looked around the room, then back at her.  "Is that blood on your robe?" he asked.  "And what's that smell?"


	10. Lead Me On

**Chapter 10 – Lead Me On**

"Smell?" Buffy asked. "I don't smell anything."

"Is it—fish?" Riley said. "Did you eat fish in here last night?"

Buffy just stared at him for a second. _Fish?!_She heard Spike snort in the closet. "Uh, no. No fish. I guess I should have cleaned the room before moving in or something."

She took Riley by the arm, grabbed her bag of toiletries and led him into the hall. "I really have to shower and get to class, Riley. Could we talk later this afternoon? Maybe meet up for coffee at the Espresso Pump?" She closed the door firmly and leaned against it, looking up at him.

"So we'll be doing this in a public place," Riley said. "Right. Less chance for hysterics if people are around."

"I won't get hysterical," Buffy told him.

"Not you. Me."

"What exactly are we going to talk about, Riley?"

He looked at her and ran a hand down the side of her head, smoothing her hair. She shivered a little at his touch without being completely sure why. Seeing him—sturdy, dependable and generally honest Riley—was making her feel a bit sick to her stomach over the way she'd just spent the night. And with whom. What the hell was she thinking? Except she hadn't been. Thinking. She was too busy just feeling. And even though everything she'd done with Spike had felt right, the bottom line was, it was wrong. This man in front of her made it wrong.

Well, that and Spike being dead and evil and soulless.

Buffy couldn't believe herself—believe the way she'd been acting lately. She didn't cheat on guys. She didn't break their hearts. She was the one who got cheated on and broken-hearted. She knew better than to give that pain to anyone else. And Riley still hadn't said anything.

"Buffy, I…" Riley closed his eyes. "I love you. I love everything about you. You are unlike any other girl I've ever met, and I don't just mean the whole superpowers thing. You're the best thing in my life and I can feel you pulling away. I don't want to let you go."

Buffy saw the pain in his face and her heart contracted. _He's my shot_, she thought. _My chance at that normal life.__ Do I still want it?_

"Riley," Buffy started before a large crash came from inside her room.

"What was that?" Riley asked. He took her shoulder. "Let me check it out."

"What? No! It doesn't need checking out by you—I mean, I can check it out myself. Superpower girl, remember? I'll meet up with you for coffee, okay? Maybe twoish?" She lightly nudged Riley away from her dorm room door. "Really, Riley. I don't need you to protect me. It was probably a bunch of books falling."

Riley looked at her doubtfully. "If you say so," he said reluctantly. "I'll wait for you. See you later." He leaned down to kiss her, but she was already turning to slip back into her room. His lips caught her ear.

"Bye!" she said, closing the door.

Spike was sprawled on her bed in his undone jeans. "Sorry about that, love. I tripped."

"Before or after you eavesdropped on my private conversation?" Buffy asked, her hands on her hips.

"Don't have to eavesdrop. Enhanced vampire hearing, remember?" He waved a hand at the door. "Besides, you and Captain Shag-Her-Not were talking so loudly, I could hear you plain as day."

"You can't stay here."

Spike sat up. "Why not?"

"You just can't." Buffy turned away and opened a dresser drawer. She pulled out a clean pair of panties and stuck them in her robe pocket. She could feel Spike standing right behind her.

"Having the famous second thoughts, Buffy?" he asked, speaking quietly but directly into her ear. "You pulling a 'Thanks for the shag now sod off' routine? Cause I can tell you, I won't be pleased if you are."

She turned around to face him, still pinned against the dresser by his arms and body. "I think I made it pretty clear that this was a one-time thing, Spike. I won't cheat on my boyfriend—not again."

Spike slid his hand inside her robe to cup her breast. He rubbed her nipple with his thumb. "Why do I doubt that?" he asked as her nub rose and hardened. "You still want me. Your body screams it."

Buffy closed her eyes, torn between crying and laughing. "Who am I? What am I becoming?"

Spike pulled his hand from inside her robe and grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You are a girl who can't possibly be satisfied with plain white bread. You have a large appetite for—everything. Blood, violence, fucking, joy. Don't deny yourself the tastes of life, Buffy. Or the taste of me." He rubbed his lips against hers. "Open your mouth."

"No," she said, pulling her chin out of his hand. Her voice was low and as hard as she could make it. She pushed at his chest. "Back off."

His blue eyes narrowed as he stared at her. But he dropped his arms and stepped back. "Damn you, Slayer," he said, his words ice cold. "I've never been with a woman the way I was with you last night. You felt something too. No bloody way you didn't."

Buffy turned her head. "Go, Spike."

Anger hardened Spike's face. Suddenly his hand shot out to grab a bottle of perfume off the dresser behind Buffy. He drew his arm back and hurtled it against the wall, smashing it and spraying glass everywhere. The room was engulfed in the scent of jasmine in seconds.

"There you go. Smell's gone. Make it easier for you to pretend it never happened."

Buffy was very still, knowing if she made a sound now she'd regret it later.

Spike pulled his boots and shirt out from under the bed and put them on. Then he picked up his duster, which had been crumpled in a corner, and shook it out. "Thanks for the ride, Slayer." He went to the door and opened it. Pausing with his hand on the knob, he looked back at her. "I may be a vampire and evil," he said quietly, "but I'm beginning to wonder if you aren't the one who's soulless." He walked out, closing the door silently behind him.

Buffy sat down on her bed. Tears filled her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall.

She was late for her first class. She'd finally showered and let the water beat on her sore body for too long. She did come to a decision as she dried off and got ready. She'd wanted a normal life for what seemed like forever. She couldn't just give up her chance at it. Not yet. Not when Riley was right there offering it to her wrapped up with a pink bow. She'd try it on. See if it fit.

She refused to think about how love wasn't factoring into her decision. Because she certainly didn't love Spike. His words, well, they'd hurt. A lot. And something within her ached when she remembered the look on his face. He was right. She still wanted him. But love? No. She'd just have to try harder with Riley.

Buffy showed up at the Espresso Pump a few minutes after two. Riley was already there, saving a table for them.

"I ordered you a latte," he said. "Hope that's okay."

"Sure. Thanks. Lattes are nice," Buffy said. She sat down and sipped her coffee. It was lukewarm. "You've been here a while?" she asked him.

"A while. Yeah," Riley said. He shifted on his stool. "How was your class?"

"Interesting," Buffy said. "At least the last twenty minutes were interesting. I kind of missed the first thirty."

"Did you fall back to sleep?"

"No. Took too long in the shower. Bad first impression to make on a teacher, I know. But I've always had trouble being On-Time-For-School Buffy, what with that late nights slaying and the stiffness and soreness…"

Riley put his hand over hers. "Now you're being Babbling Buffy."

Buffy laughed lightly, nervously.

"Buffy, what's going on? And don't deny it, please. I know something's up."

She sighed. She'd been practicing what to say on the walk here, hoping that just the right words would magically fall out of her mouth. Which wouldn't be that unusual, being on the Hellmouth and all. She took a deep breath. "I want to try and make this work, Riley—this thing between us."

"Then why do you look so grim when you say that?" he asked.

"Not grim, determined."

Riley took his hand from hers and leaned back. "Is it really that hard?"

"What?"

"This. Us. Is it really so hard for you that you have to force yourself to be in this relationship?"

"No!" Buffy said quickly. "I mean, God I don't know what I mean. I do know I want you in my life. I want what you represent to me—something safe. Something I can count on to always be there."

"You make me sound like a teddy bear or ADT."

"Riley." Buffy groaned, putting her head in her hands. "I am so crappy with the words. Words are not my friends."

"Just try to be clear. That's all. Tell me." Riley crossed his arms, waiting.

She didn't blame him for being irritated. And she knew she should confess what she'd been doing with Spike lately before going any further with this attempt at fixing their relationship. But, again, the words wouldn't come.

"Let's start over," she finally said. "Hi." She stuck her hand out. "I'm Buffy Summers and I'm really glad to meet you."

He looked at her strangely, keeping his arms folded. "I don't know if I want to start all over. It seems like we've gone through too much together to start back at the beginning."

She let her hand fall. This was harder than she wanted it to be. "Okay. Not from the beginning. How about from when you came back to Sunnydale this weekend? Can we start from there?"

Riley folded. She could see it in every line of his body. He'd play. Buffy felt relieved yet also disappointed. Not much of a fight, really.

He stood and tugged at her hand until she was in his arms. He hugged her tightly and she took a deep breath of him. He smelled—nice. Not dark and sexy like Spike with the leather and the bourbon and the musk and… Buffy dug her forehead into Riley's chest to stop her thoughts.

Riley pulled back. "Ow, Buffy. Careful. I have ribs in there."

"Oh! Sorry!" She smoothed his shirt down. "I need to check in with the gang. But can we meet up later? At the Bronze again?"

"Will Spike be there?"

"I have no clue," she said as lightly as she could. "I'm not Spike's keeper."

"But he'd like to be yours."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Buffy lied. She kissed him on the cheek. "See you later?"

"Yes," Riley said. "Later."

"What time did Riley say he was coming?" Xander asked, shouting over the music as he, Anya, Buffy, Willow and Tara danced together at the Bronze.

"I'm not sure," Buffy shouted back. "I left him a couple messages, but I never heard back."

"You're sure he's okay?"

Anya patted his arm and then slid her hands around his middle. "Forget your mancrush, Xander. Dance with me."

"Ha, ha, Anya," Xander said, but he complied and danced her away from the group.

"Should we sit the rest of this out?" Buffy asked Willow and Tara. They agreed and the women made their way back to their table.

"Thirsty," Buffy told them. "Cokes all around?"

"Coke for Tara, but I'll just have water," Willow said. Buffy nodded and went to get the drinks.

She saw him right away. He was sitting at the bar, smoking. Their eyes locked for a second before Spike purposefully looked away. Buffy was about to make a move in his direction when a pretty brown-haired girl sat down on the stool next to his. He turned to her immediately and said something that made her laugh. She plucked the cigarette from his fingers and took a slow drag off it. After blowing the smoke out of the corner of her mouth, she leaned over and kissed Spike. On the mouth. Enthusiastically. And he definitely wasn't fighting her off.

Buffy felt sucker-punched. How could he go from her and what they'd shared the night before to—that? She closed her eyes for a second, hoping she was only seeing things. But when she looked again, the girl had her arms wrapped around Spike's neck. She was playing with the soft curls at Spike's nape. The curls Buffy had held on to while Spike had been deep inside of her. The irrational hurt she felt was almost overwhelming.

Spike broke the kiss and looked Buffy's way. The smirk on his face made Buffy want to rip those curls out, hair by hair. She crossed her arms and walked straight to the pair.

"That was quick," she said to Spike when she reached them.

"Well, pet. Seeing as you didn't want what I was offering, I found a bird who does."

Buffy turned to the girl. "Did he tell you he's a vampire? But one who can't bite because he's been neutered?"

"So?" the girl said. She ran a finger over Spike's lips. He grabbed it with his teeth and made a little "grr" noise. "I think it's cool."

"Oh, you can pick them, can't you," Buffy said to Spike. He released the girl's finger and shrugged at Buffy.

"A willing woman is a wonderful thing. If I remember correctly, you were more than willing last night. Several times last night."

"You slept with this bitch last night?" the girl said. "I thought you said you weren't attached."

"I'm not, now am I, Buffy?" Spike said looking only at her. He dropped the attitude for a second and let her see the real confusion in his eyes. It hurt to look at him, so Buffy didn't. She studied the girl instead.

"So you don't mind that Spike's a vamp?" Buffy asked the girl.

"As long as he doesn't kill me, nah. Why should I?"

"Um, the evil, blood drinking, soulless, dead guy walking thing?" Buffy said.

The girl looked Buffy up and down. Her expression said she found Buffy sadly wanting. "It seems he was good enough for you last night, so who are you to be questioning me?"

"Nothing's ever good enough for Buffy, pet," Spike said. He threw some cash on the bar and grabbed the girl's hand. "Let's get out of here."

Spike brushed past Buffy, pulling the girl behind him. He didn't look back.

Suddenly Buffy had the intense desire to go kill something.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" She punched the vampire in the face. "I'm the Slayer! I can't do moral ambiguity, can I?" The vamp got up and rushed her. She sidestepped him and threw him headfirst into a tombstone. "And he wasn't all that great. Well… Well, yeah. He actually was." She kicked the vamp in the head, flattening him.

He stared up at her through yellowed eyes. "Men, huh?" he asked.

"Exactly," Buffy said, pulling out her stake. "Can't live with them. Can't kill them all." She drove the wood into the vampire's heart and walked through the resulting dust.

She hadn't gone far when she heard the sounds of a struggle off to the right. When someone screamed, Buffy ran to help. As she neared the source of the sound, Spike's date came rushing at her.

"He's gonna be killed!" she screeched at Buffy. "More!"

"Who? Spike?"

"Yes! He's fighting some huge slime-covered thing. I'm getting the fuck out of here. You can have him!" The girl ran off and Buffy shook her head. So much for the competition. Not that the girl was competition because Buffy was so not competing for Spike. No way.

"You son of a-- Sod off, Jabba!" she heard Spike yell, followed by a wet slurpy sound. She ran around a crypt to find Spike's arm embedded in a very large, very pink, very gooey-looking demon. "Slayer!" he called when he saw her. "Stay away from its claws." He pulled his arm out and shook the slime off. "Damn thing's got poison in them."

"It has claws?" Buffy asked. The demon noticed her standing there and lumbered towards her. "It has hands?"

Spike jumped onto the demon's back, trying to find purchase in all the goo. It stopped and tried to shake him off, making pink slime fly in every direction. "Why did I wear nice clothes tonight?" Buffy asked the night sky before high-kicking the thing. Her foot sank right into it. She curled her toes and yanked backwards, trying to save her boot. But Spike's attempts to snap the demon's neck pushed it forward, sucking more of her leg into it.

"Spike, what the hell are you doing?" Suddenly, Buffy noticed the demon's arms—with wicked-looking claws attached—extending out of its torso. "Spike!" she yelled. "Claws coming for your head!"

Spike jerked back, but one of the demon's hands scraped his cheek. He lost his hold and fell to the ground.

Buffy blindly reached backwards and grabbed a headstone. She leaned back on it and kicked her leg, flinging the demon—and her boot—into the crypt behind her. It oozed down the stone wall and puddled on the grass.

Buffy whipped around to look for Spike. He was still lying where he'd landed. His face was bleeding. She ran to him and knelt down. "Spike," she said as she shook his shoulder. He groaned and blinked up at her.

"Bloody hell."

"What do I do? That thing scratched you."

"Dump me back in my crypt, would you Slayer?" he asked faintly.

"What about the poison?" Buffy tore a piece of her skirt off and dabbed at his cheek. "What do I do to get it out?"

"My blood don't exactly circulate like a human's, now does it? I'll be a bit woozy for a while. Expect I'll sleep it off."

Buffy pulled him to a sitting position and then ducked her head under his arm. She helped him stand and wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him from falling down. After kicking off her other boot, she half-dragged him home.


	11. Little Girl Lost

Thanks for all the positive reviews. Please know I'm updating as fast as my little fingers can. :) And never fear--this is a Spuffy story in the end.

****

**Chapter 11 – Little Girl Lost**

Buffy helped Spike onto the thin mattress covering the sarcophagus. She pulled his boots and coat off and dragged a blanket over him. He groaned and rolled away from her.

Satisfied he was sleeping, Buffy looked around his crypt. She wandered into the "kitchen" area. The refrigerator was bare except for beer and blood. He'd need the blood later, she thought as she closed the door. She looked around for some water or something to wash some of the pink slime from the Giant Bubble Gum Demon off her legs and arms. Who knew what that stuff could do to her skin if left on too long. But she didn't see anything. Spike always smelled clean. He must have water somewhere.

She remembered the cement slab on the floor in the back of the crypt. Below it was the entrance to the sewers. Last time she went down there she was so focused on the possible spell she and Spike were under to really notice her surroundings. Maybe he had some kind of bathroom? Or at least a sink.

She slid the slab to the side and climbed down the ladder to the space below. A lit torch rested in a holder on the wall. Buffy pulled it out and began to explore.

The cobwebs were thick down here, as was the musty air. But, sure enough, around the corner was a pipe with a spigot. She was too anxious to get the goo off to think about the legality of Spike having running water—or electricity upstairs, as a matter of fact. She set the torch in another wall holder and turned the water on, splashing her arms and legs with it. She noticed a bar of soap to her left and used it to rub the last of the pink stuff off. Then she closed the spigot and looked for something to dry herself with. Folded neatly in a corner were several white towels. Probably taken from various Sunnydale motels, she thought. But she grabbed one anyway and briskly rubbed her skin.

She hung the towel over the pipe and picked up the torch. As she turned, the flame flashed on something on the wall. Buffy walked closer, holding the torch high. Her eyes widened as she saw several pictures of herself tacked up there—pictures of her with her friends, of her laughing, of her patrolling, of her at the Bronze… Where did he get these? She stomped to the ladder, determined to wake Spike to find out.

When she reached the top, she first noticed the crypt door standing open. That was quickly followed by the sight of Riley standing over Spike, a stake in his raised hand.

"Riley! Stop!" she yelled.

Riley glanced at her as Spike rolled over onto his back, making himself the perfect target. Buffy moved as fast as she could, but before she could reach them, Riley plunged the stake directly into Spike's heart. Buffy froze, waiting. But Spike didn't go poof. Instead, he sat up and screamed.

Buffy rushed over to him and pulled the stake out. "What the hell _is_ this?" she asked Riley.

"Wood-grained plastic," he said. "I had to know what you'd do, Buffy. I had to know if what I'd been seeing lately was true or not."

Spike panted and pressed the blanket to his bleeding chest. "Bloody hell, you stupid sod. Took ten years off my unlife." He peeled his shirt off to better examine the wound.

"You okay?" Buffy asked him.

"Hurts like hell, but yeah."

Buffy turned back to Riley. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that you'd get you mind back if I got rid of this—thing. He's clouded your judgment somehow. He's got you under some kind of spell."

Buffy glanced at Spike. He was looking at her as well. "No," Buffy said softly. "There's no spell."

"Then—then what are _you_ thinking, Buffy?" Riley asked. His voice was strained. "I _saw_ you dancing together at the Bronze. As much as I want to pretend it couldn't have possibly happened, I also know what you did in your dorm room. Not completely stupid, you know."

"I beg to differ," Spike said.

"Shut up," Buffy and Riley told him.

"Just saying," Spike said. He slid off the sarcophagus and went to a chest on the other side of the room.

"Riley, I'm sorry. I never wanted you to find out this way."

"Or at all," Riley said. "Did you love me even a little?"

"This is so not about love."

"Hey now!" Spike said. He straightened, holding a first aid kit. "Speak for yourself."

"You have no idea what love is," Riley sneered at him. "How could you when absolutely everything you do is for your own gain?"

"Well, that's not entirely true," Buffy said. "Spike's been helping lately."

"You're defending him?" Riley asked.

"Damn right she is," Spike said. He handed a square of gauze and a roll of tape to Buffy. Almost automatically, she placed the gauze against his wound and put his hand over it to hold it in place. She then tore off four strips of the tape and secured the bandage with them. She handed the roll back to Spike and turned to see Riley staring at her with his mouth opened slightly.

"Riley," she said, "what I've done with Spike is wrong—on so many levels. I know this. I know I hurt you. I don't expect you to forgive me or to continue our relationship, but for what it's worth, it won't happen again."

She felt Spike get very still behind her. Riley simply narrowed his eyes at her.

"I wish I could believe you," Riley said. "But I'm a little low on 'trust Buffy' blindness right now."

A flash of self-disgust went through Buffy. "I understand."

"I need to go," Riley said. He glared at Spike once more and then left through the open crypt door. The slam of it behind him echoed throughout the room.

"So that's it then, Slayer?" Spike asked. "Then off with you now. Got things to do. Evil, self-serving things."

She turned to him. "Spike, you don't have a soul."

"Really?" Spike said. "Not like you haven't reminded me of that at every turn. So I'm good enough for you while we're shagging, but when faced with the prospect of actually having a relationship with me, your moral code kicks back in?"

"I'm sorry. I never should have…"

"No. You bloody well shouldn't have. But who cares, right? What I feel can't possibly be real. Fuck you, Slayer. Go find your soldier boy and beg him to take you back. Because I'm done."

"I didn't mean to hurt you either, Spike."

"Get. Out."

Buffy left.


	12. Who's Sorry Now

**Chapter 12 – Who's Sorry Now**

The rest of the week went by quickly, which surprised Buffy.  But professors who gave out homework on the very first day of class were the only demons she had time to deal with.

She still tried to patrol each night, at least for a little while.  Things were strangely quiet on campus.  So quiet that Buffy wondered if maybe the Initiative was back in business, especially since she hadn't seen Riley since he left Spike's crypt that night.  If he hadn't rejoined his old crew, she still didn't think he was trying to go all Invisible Man.  Their lives just didn't seem to intersect much.

As for Spike, well, Buffy really _had_ been avoiding _him_.  She'd seen him on campus while patrolling a few nights ago, and as much as she wanted to ask him what he was doing there, she didn't want to have to deal with the inevitable confrontation that would follow.  So she'd decided to patrol somewhere that was else.  Not that she was running away or anything.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Saturday morning, Buffy stood in the cafeteria line with Willow and Tara.

"I thought you'd go home to see your mom this weekend," Willow said.

Buffy shrugged.  "She had a date today.  Some guy she met at the gallery.  Maybe I'll go see her tomorrow and get all the not-so-juicy details."

Willow glanced at Tara before turning back to Buffy.  "So, Buffy.  We haven't seen much of you and nothing of Riley in a while.  Is there a story that needs telling there?"

Buffy fiddled with the necklace she was wearing.  "Riley and I aren't seeing each other anymore."

Willow backhanded her on the shoulder.  "And you're just telling us this _now_?"

"What happened, Buffy?" Tara asked.

"Let's wait until we get our food.  I can't spill a tale of woe on an empty stomach."

"Woe?"  Willow said.  "There's woe?"

xxxxxxxxx

"…and then he staked Spike, we had words and I haven't seen him since," Buffy finished.

"He staked Spike?" Tara asked.

"How do you feel about that?" Willow added.

Buffy waved her hands.  "No, no.  Spike's not blowing in the wind.  Riley used a plastic stake.  It hurt Spike, but it didn't make him dusty."

"Why would Riley stake Spike?" Tara asked.

"Heh.  Well, that's the funny part.  Or not funny.  Actually, more embarrassing.  Humiliating?"

"Buffy…" Willow said.

Buffy put her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands.  "Spike and I slept together and Riley found out," she mumbled into her danish.

After not hearing anything for several seconds, Buffy looked up.  Willow and Tara were staring at her with wide eyes.

"I know," Buffy said.  "I've gone completely insane.  They should take away my Slayer ID and send me to the stockades or something.  Not that they could.  You don't think they could do that, do you?"

Willow shook herself a little.  "You _slept_ with Spike?  Actually, I don't know why I didn't see this coming.  You two have been doing the sexual innuendo thing for years."

Buffy opened her mouth in shock.  "We so have NOT."

Tara nodded.  "You really have."

"I mean, first you kiss him," Willow said, ticking off points on her fingers, "then you kiss him again, then you find out there's no spell…  The next logical step would be you sleeping together."

"What kind of a jump in logic is THAT, Evel Knievel?"

"Well, that's what happened, isn't it?"  When Buffy flushed, Willow patted her hand.  "See?  Not such a death-defying jump after all."

"So, Riley left and you and Spike…" Tara asked, waiting.

"Spike and I nothing.  He told me to get out.  I left.  Haven't talked to him in days."

"Why did he tell you to get out—and why am I not completely wigged by all of this?" Willow looked at Tara for the answer.

"You got a lot of your wigging out when Buffy told us she'd kissed Spike, sweetie," Tara told her.

"True," Willow said.  "So why'd he throw you out, Buff?"

"I…  I told him it was over.  That it wasn't going to happen again," Buffy said.

"And will it?" Willow asked gently.

Buffy's words were soft.  "Honestly?  I don't know."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Buffy didn't feel much like eating after her conversation with Willow and Tara, so she made her excuses and escaped to the library to stare at her text books.  She was reading the same passage about the Revolutionary War for the tenth time when she heard a girl whispering at the table behind her.

"He did!" the girl said.  "He came out of nowhere and shoved this piece of wood into the _thing's_ heart and it just burst and sprinkled to the ground!"

"What did you _do_?" another voice whispered.

"I told him 'thank you', of course.  After I finished screaming.  He was so nice!  And he had the most wonderful accent and these really blue eyes."

"Sounds hot!  Did you ask him out?"

"I actually thought about it, especially when he called me 'love'.  But he left too quickly," the first voice said.

Buffy spun around.  "Sorry to barge into your conversation, but did you say this guy had an accent?"

The two girls at the table behind her looked startled at her question.  The dark-haired one answered first.  "Uh, yeah.  He had an accent."

"And he called you 'love'?" Buffy asked.  The girl nodded.  "Was he really well-built with white blond hair?"

"Yeah!  That's him!" the girl said, hopping up and down in excitement.  "Did he save you too?"

Buffy laughed.  "Not exactly.  What night was this?"

"Last night.  Why?  Do you know him?  'Cause, I mean, if he's not taken, I'd really like to get to know him better."

"I know him," Buffy said.  "But believe me.  He's not your type."  Buffy gathered her books together quickly.  "Thanks for the information, though."

"Sure.  Whatever," the girl said, offended.

xxxxxxxxxxx

An hour later, Buffy banged into Spike's crypt.  His bed looked neat and definitely empty.  She stood still for a minute to see if she could maybe feel him anywhere close.  Nothing.  Not that it meant anything.  She didn't _always_ feel him.  Much.

She moved the cement slab off the entrance to the lower level and hung her head down a little.  "Spike!" she yelled.  There was no answer.  She pushed the slab back into place and sat back on her heels.  It was the middle of the day.  Where could he be?

She stood up and brushed the knees of her capris off.  Well, he'd have to come back eventually, and when he did, she'd be here waiting for him.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

It was after dark when Buffy woke up.  The voices from the television had made it into her dream and she thought for a second that there was a five-car pileup somewhere in the crypt.  She pushed herself out of Spike's easy chair and stood, working the kinks out after having been asleep in one position for—she looked at her watch—eight hours!  And still no sign of Spike.

Buffy shut the TV off and left the crypt.  He could be anywhere, she thought as she walked through the cemetery.  For all she knew, he'd come in, seen her and left again.  She sighed and headed for campus.

As she crossed the campus green, Buffy noticed a group of semi-hysterical girls huddled together under a tree.  Trying for casual, Buffy walked up to them.  "Is everyone okay?" she asked.

One of the girls turned.  "Did you see that?" she asked Buffy.  Buffy looked around at the group.  Four girls, one with torn jeans and—yes—bite marks on her neck.  "There was this monster thing—like out of a vampire movie.  It bit Courtney and then some man in a black coat showed up and killed it."

"Did you see where the man went?" another asked.  "God, he's a hero.  I think he's the one who's been saving girls all week, don't you think, Courtney?"

Courtney looked a bit shaky.  Buffy went to her and put an arm around her shoulders.  "Let's take you to the ER.  Make sure you're okay."

Courtney nodded and let Buffy lead her away.  The other three followed, chattering about the stranger in the black coat with the sexy hair.  Buffy rolled her eyes and squashed a tiny bit of jealousy as they described his muscles, his good looks, his blue eyes.  No, not jealousy.  Anger.  She was angry that Spike was playing some new game.  And Buffy intended to find out the rules.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Buffy left Courtney and her friends at the hospital and made her way back to her dorm.  She didn't come across even one demon on her way, especially not the one she really wanted to see.  But she was achy and still surprisingly tired, so she decided to call it a night.

She was pretty deeply asleep when something woke her.  A feeling that something was different.  She opened her eyes to see Spike standing across the room.

Buffy sat up quickly.  "What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Got something to show you."

"Where were you?"

"What?" Spike asked.

"Where were you?  I went to your crypt today and you weren't there.  I feel asleep in front of your TV, but you still weren't back when I woke up."

"I'm about to take you where I was.  Get dressed."

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him.  "Spike, there's been talk—"

"Slayer, get dressed now," Spike said, getting impatient.  "We don't have a lot of time.  And you really need to see this."

Buffy slid out of bed and quickly stripped off her pajamas.  She didn't even check to see if Spike was watching her as she put on a pair of jeans and a shirt.  She was sure he was.

Dressed, she turned to face him.  "You better not be wasting my time with this, Spike."

He flashed an angry look at her.  "You'll understand when we get there.  Come on."

Buffy followed him into the hall and outside the building.  He led the way, walking quickly and never looking back to see if she was still there.  They were reaching the downtown warehouse district when Buffy grabbed his shoulder.  

"Spike, where the hell are we going?" she asked as he stopped and turned to her.

"Almost there, pet.  Believe me.  It's important you see this."

She dropped her hand and he started walking again.  She hurried to catch up.

Spike finally stopped at the bottom of a flight of stairs that led up to a deserted-looking building.  He glanced at her before climbing the steps.  At the top, he moved aside so she could open the door.

The place they walked into was dark and smelled like Xander's tennis shoes.  Buffy looked at Spike uncertainly, but he gestured at another flight of stairs, this one leading to the second floor.  Buffy noticed scattered bodies writhing together in the darkest corners of the room.  Vampires—at least some of them.  She looked at Spike.

"We're not here for them, Buffy."

She hesitated a moment longer and then decided to trust him.  She started up the stairs, Spike right behind her.

At the top, Spike put his hand on the small of her back and guided her down another dark hallway until they reached a closed door.  "Sorry, love," he whispered as he turned the knob.

He pushed the door open slowly.   Buffy saw two forms moving in rhythm together on the bed in the middle of the room.  Both were naked.  The female on the bottom had her fangs deeply embedded in the man's arm as he drove into her.

"What the hell?" Buffy said.  But she covered her mouth in shock when she realized she recognized that strong-looking back.  "God," she said faintly.  "Riley?"

Riley slowed his hips and looked over his shoulder.  His yellow eyes shone through the darkness.

"Hello, Buffy."


	13. What To Do

I'm officially calling this an AR—Alternate Reality story.  Which seems like a "duh", huh?  But I've messed with the timeline of the existence of the Magic Box, there's no Dawn and Joyce doesn't die in this.  So there you have it.  I'm coming out. ;)

Thanks for the articulate and specific comments, those who left them.  Feedback like that is the best motivation to keep writing.

**Chapter 13 – What To Do**

Buffy ran.  She didn't think twice about it, she just turned, pushed past Spike and ran.  Nine blocks away, she finally stopped.

As she doubled over, out of breath, her mind was racing.  He didn't.  He couldn't have.  How could he have been so _stupid_?

Spike ran up to her.  "You all right?" he asked, ducking down to look at her face. 

She stood and pushed him away.  Not hard.  Not far.  Just enough so she could have more space to catch her breath.  "Do.  I look.  Okay?" she asked.

"You look like you're hyperventilating, is what you look like," he said, grabbing her shoulder.  "Sit down, Slayer.  Put your head between your knees."

Buffy let him guide her down to the curb.  He stroked the back of her neck as she hung her head down.  Eventually, her breathing returned to normal, but a sick feeling of panic lodged itself in her belly.  Like one two many mozzarella sticks—and as the food thought crossed her brain, Buffy turned her head and threw up in the street.

"That's twice you've heaved your guts in front of me, Buffy.  Do it again and you're gonna give me a complex."

Buffy wiped her mouth with her sleeve and tried to stand.  Spike caught her around the waist.  "Where do you want to go, love?" he asked.

"Home," Buffy said.

"Your dorm room?"

"No.  Home."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Buffy used her key to get inside her house.  She left the front door open behind her, expecting Spike to follow her in.  He did, closing the door with a firm push.

Buffy walked over to the couch and sank down into it.  She looked up at Spike.  "How did you find him?" she asked.

"I heard tell he was getting suck jobs in the alley behind Willy's.  I followed him to that vamp den last night.  Didn't know he was gonna get himself turned or I might have…"

Buffy looked away.

He sat next to her.  "Hate that it's me telling you this, Buffy.  But I thought you needed to know."

"Aren't you all noble with your 'thought you should know' crap," Buffy said, turning on him.  "Do you think I'll fall into _your_ arms now, grateful to you for _enlightening_ me?"

"Well, thought you might need a bit of comfort.  And if that means falling into my arms…"

"I thought you were done, Spike.  Isn't that what you told me?"

"Yeah," Spike said, staring at the floor.  "That's what I said all right."

They were both silent for a minute.  Then Buffy asked, "When did Riley get--turned?"

"Think it was last night.  I was hanging about that place today since he never came out.  When I saw him tonight, I came to find you."

"I thought you were on campus tonight, saving some co-eds."

"You heard about that, huh?  Incidental.  It happened while I was looking for you.  You led me on a merry chase this evening.  I went to your dormitory first, then the Bronze, then your patrolling haunts, then here, then back to your dorm where I finally found you."

"What, you couldn't just sniff me out?"

"Guess not," Spike said.  "I smell you everywhere.  I'm drowning in your scent, Summers."

Buffy ignored that.  Instead she said, "It's my fault.  Riley.  It's all my fault."

"Now, cut that out.  Finn's a big boy.  He had to know what he was getting into, right?  Him being ex-Initiative and all."

"But he never would have…  If I hadn't with you…"

Spike laughed harshly and shook his head.  "Knew you'd put this on me somehow."

"You don't think you had anything to do with this?"

"I think you're spending too much time playing the blame game and not enough plotting your next move, Slayer."

"I've got to go back there.  I've got to stake him," Buffy said.  She put her head in her hands.  "Why is this so hard?  He's not Riley anymore, is he?  I mean, the demon replaces the person, right?"

"Is that what your Watcher told you?" Spike asked.  "Of course it is," he continued, not allowing her to answer.  "Well that's bloody priceless.  Not that I don't want you to stake the git, but demons are like people—you can't just lump us all together.  We all have shades of gray, Buffy.  Even you."

She looked at him.  "So you're saying that Riley might still be Riley somewhere in there."

"Could you stake him if he was?"

"I don't know.  I need Giles."

Spike put his arm around her shoulder and drew her to his side.  She surprised herself by not protesting.  "What you need is a clearer head.  Rest a bit.  You can see Giles in the morning."

"You don't think Riley will go after him and the rest of the gang, do you?"

"He might.  But not tonight.  He'll have plenty to eat where he is right now."

"Oh God," Buffy said.

"Just rest, pet."

She reluctantly closed her eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Buffy vaguely remembered Spike's lips on her cheek and him saying something about dawn coming.  Which must have meant he was leaving because when she woke up on the couch with an afghan draped over her, he was gone.

"Buffy?" her mom said, coming into the room.  "What are you doing sleeping on the couch?"

"I, uh, was patrolling near here and got too tired to go back to the dorm."  Buffy sat up and ran her fingers through her hair.  "How did your date go yesterday?"

Joyce smiled.  "Brian was wonderful.  We're going on a picnic today.  Actually, in a couple hours.  Did you want to come with?"

"What?  No.  No thanks, Mom.  I couldn't go on your date with you.  Just tell him he better treat you right or he'll have me to deal with."

"I'm glad to see you, honey.  Is everything okay?  You look tired," Joyce said.

"Well, I did just wake up.  And there have been some late nights with patrolling and studying, but I'm okay.  Really.  Just peachy."

Joyce looked at her for a moment.  "Okay, but know that I'm always here for you to talk to if you need me."

Buffy stood up and hugged her mom.  "I know.  I love you."  She stepped back.  "I think I'll go up and shower."

Joyce nodded and Buffy escaped up the stairs.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Giles opened his apartment door after Buffy pounded on it.

"Good heavens, Buffy.  It's ten o'clock on a Sunday morning.  What could be so important?" Giles asked, letting her inside.

"Riley's a vamp," Buffy said bluntly.

Giles laughed.  "It sounded like you said Riley's a vampire."

"I did, Giles."

Giles stopped laughing.  "What happened?"

"Apparently he's been spending his evenings getting sucked on by vamp whores.  One took a little too much, I guess, and well…"

"I never would have imagined Riley allowing a vampire to turn him.  Extraordinary."

"Not so much," Buffy said.

"Oh, Buffy.  I'm sorry.  I don't mean to be insensitive.  I'm sure this must be a horrible shock for you."

"You could say that."  Buffy sat on one of the stools at Giles's counter.  "Thing is, I think he did it because of me."

Giles sat at his desk and turned the chair around to face her.  "Why would you think that?"

"He found out something."

Giles reached for his tea and raised the cup to his mouth.  "What's that?" he asked before taking a sip.

"He found out Spike and I have been sleeping together."

Giles spit the tea all over the hardwood floor.  Buffy grabbed a towel off the counter and went to wipe it up.

"Leave it," Giles said.  "You're doing _what_ with Spike?"

"Sleeping with him.  Well, there was only the one time that involved any actual sleeping."

"I rather not have the details, if you don't mind."

Buffy sat back on the stool.  "Right," she said.  "I'm not proud of it, Giles.  And I'm not planning on doing it again.  But Riley did find out.  And now he's a vamp."

Giles took his glasses off and polished them quickly.  "We have to warn the others."

"I know."

"What's your plan?" he asked, slipping his glasses back on.

"I guess I have to stake him."  Buffy stared at her hands.  "I cared—care—about him, Giles.  I hurt him.  I feel as though I've already killed him."

Giles stood and put his arms around her.  "I'm so sorry, Buffy."

Finally, her tears came.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After she cried out all her pain and frustration and fear, Buffy left Giles's apartment and went back to her dorm to call Willow and Xander.  They, along with Tara and Anya, showed up at Buffy's door within the next twenty minutes.  Buffy let them in.

Xander stared hard at her as he walked past.  "What's with the cryptic 'Come now because we need to talk' stuff, Buff?"  He settled himself on Buffy's desk chair.  Willow and Tara sat on Buffy's bed while Anya hovered at Xander's shoulder.

"Cryptic calls from you are never good," Anya said.

"Guys," Buffy said, "I have something pretty horrible to tell you.  It's about Riley."

"You broke up?" Willow asked.  "I mean, officially?"

"No.  Well, yes.  But no, that's not it.  Last night…  Last night, Riley became a vampire."

"A what?  To who?  Where?" Xander asked.

"Riley had his blood sucked and then sucked a vampire's blood.  You know the drill, sweetie," Anya said, patting his shoulder.

"Oh God.  Buffy," Tara said.  "What happened?"

"Weren't you listening?" Anya asked.

"Ahn, enough!" Xander said.  "We're trying to process here.  Buffy, what--"

"Spike said he was turned last night."

"Spike?!" Xander shouted.  "What does Spike have to do with this?"

"I'm trying to tell you, Xander, if you'll just calm down," Buffy told him.

"What's amazing to me is how calm _you_ are about this, Buffy.  Didn't you care for Riley at all?"

"Xander!" Willow said.

"Look at her, Will.  She's got that 'I'm going to slay that demon' look in her eye.  And it's a look for Riley, for Christ's sake."

"Xander, the Riley we know is gone.  What's left is a soulless thing.  It's my job to slay him."

"If that's true, why the hell haven't you slayed Spike yet?  Huh, Buffy?"  Xander stood and crossed the room to her.  "And don't tell me it's just because of his chip."

"Spike's different," Buffy said quietly.

"Different how?  Because you let yourself be kissed by him?"

Buffy looked at Willow.  "Did you _tell_ him?"

Willow wrung her hands.  "We were worried about you, Buffy.  We wondered if you were thinking clearly about Spike."

"Is _that_ why Riley became a vamp, Buff?  Because he knew you'd only get really hot for him if he was one?"

Buffy slapped Xander across the face.  Instantly everyone froze.  Buffy's bright red handprint appeared on Xander's cheek.  She couldn't take her eyes off it.

She took a deep breath.  "Xan—I'm sorry.  All of you—I'm sorry.  Maybe you're right, Xander.  God knows I've been beating myself up with that thought since last night.  But Riley's already dead.  And now I need to get rid of what was left behind."  Buffy went to the bed and slid her weapons chest out from under it.  She grabbed two stakes and a knife, which she stuck in her boot.  She pushed the chest back under the bed and stood.  "I know this is something I have to do on my own.  But I wanted you all to know what was going on—and to know not to let Riley in if you see him."

"Where are you going?" Willow asked.

"I'm going back to the place Spike and I saw Riley last night.  And I'm going to burn it to the ground."

She left, slamming the door behind her.


	14. Facing It

**Chapter 14 – Facing It**

The sun was still high when Buffy reached the vampire den.  She'd meant what she'd said to her friends—she would burn the place down.  But first she needed to face Riley again to see if anything "Riley" was left.

Buffy took a deep breath at the door before kicking it in with a crash.  She stepped across the splintered threshold, pulled out a stake and looked around.  It felt—empty.  She ran up the stairs and into the room where she'd last seen Riley.  Empty as well.  Even the mattress was bare, though she couldn't exactly remember if there had been sheets on it last night.

"Looks like they cleared out after our visit."

Buffy jumped and whirled around to see Spike standing in the doorway.  She lowered her stake slowly as she tried to calm her racing heart.  "You idiot!" she said to him.  "I could have killed you!"

"Sorry, pet.  Thought your mighty vampire radar would have detected me."  He swaggered through the doorway, thumbs hooked into his belt.  "Guess Batman and his cronies flew the coop.  Bet they figured you'd be back."

"But you told me he wouldn't go anywhere last night.  That he'd be all 'good eats'."

"Yeah, well, guess Finn's smarter than he looks."

Buffy started to sit on the edge of the mattress but then thought better of it.  She crossed her arms and moved around the room instead.  "So, where do you think they went?"

Spike shrugged.  "Plenty of crypts around.  Plus, abandoned buildings.  And even Angel's old mansion."

Buffy shoved the stake into her back pocket and pulled out a book of matches.  "Well, they won't be coming back here.  I'll make sure of that."

"Gonna torch the place, then?"

"That's the idea."  Buffy pushed past Spike and started down the stairs.

"Why's that?" Spike asked, following her down.

"So they can't come back here."  Buffy walked over to a camp stove set up on a coffee table.  She pulled a match loose.

Spike came up behind her and wrapped his fingers around hers.  "Don't, love.  They're not coming back.  There are better ways to get your anger out."

She shook him off.  "How?  By shagging you?"

Spike narrowed his eyes and shook his head.  "Need I remind you that it's _your_ mind that always goes there first?"

"Get real," she said, but there was no heat behind the words.  She threw the matches aside.  "Okay.  So I don't go all 'Firestarter'.  What do _you_ think I should do?"

"Wait until tonight.  We'll find him together."

Buffy closed her eyes.  "Why?" she asked.  "Why are you even here?"

"You know why, Buffy.  You just won't admit it to yourself."  Spike pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and shook one up before grabbing it between his teeth.  He tucked the pack away and then lit the cig with his silver lighter.  After a deep drag, he looked at her again.  She was staring at him intently.

"You're right," she finally said.  "I do want you."

"Well there's a start," he said, flicking ash on the floor.

"But wanting you doesn't make it right or good.  I don't _want_ to want you, Spike."

"I'm not the same, Buffy.  Something's changing in me.  And it's because of you—of what I feel for you.  Give me a chance.  I'll prove it to you.  Starting with taking out the former soldier boy."

"That won't prove anything to me.  You hated Riley before he became a vamp."

"True."  Spike took another drag and blew it out slowly.  "Only 'cause he had what I wanted."

"You never wanted me," Buffy said quietly.  "Not me, really.  You want another Slayer."

Spike tossed his cigarette onto a ratty couch.  "Maybe, in the beginning.  But not now.  You're Buffy to me now, more than the Slayer.  Now I want the whole package."  He stepped close to her and cupped her cheek.  "And I know you love what I can do for you—and to you."

"Spike."

He kissed her.  His mouth was becoming so familiar, yet was still so exciting.  He softly nibbled her bottom lip, encouraging Buffy to open her mouth to him.  After a moment she did and his tongue lightly caressed hers.  She felt her whole body sway to him, looking for full contact.  He smelled of smoke…  Something smelled of smoke.

Buffy pulled back.  "Fire," she said.

"Mm-hmm," Spike said.  "I feel it too."

"No, you idiot.  You set the couch on fire with your cigarette."

Spike whirled around to see the upholstery smoldering and flames greedily eating a stack of old newspapers.  "Shit."

"Well, help me put it out."

"What with?"  Spike looked around the room.  He quickly grabbed an old blanket off the floor and started beating at the flames with it, knocking over the camp stove in his enthusiasm.

"Butane!" Buffy hollered.  She grabbed his arm and hurled him through the entrance to the building before flying out after him. 

"Fuck, Buffy!  The sun!" Spike yelled.  He yanked his duster over his head and let her drag him down the steps and away from the fire behind them.  Buffy quickly found some shade around the corner and pushed Spike into it.

Spike shook himself off, smoke still rising from his coat.  "What the hell?  Overreact much?" he asked.

Buffy felt a little embarrassed.  "Sorry.  I just saw that butane canister fall onto the burning newspapers and I thought—"

A loud BOOM shook the air.

"—something like that might happen," she finished.

Spike smoothed his hair.  "Right.  Thanks then."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They went their separate ways after Buffy agreed to meet up with him at his crypt at dusk.  He still insisted on coming with her to find Riley and, frankly, she was kind of happy to have the company.  She couldn't exactly ask her friends to come with since they all seemed to like Riley so much—plus the whole full-of-fresh-blood thing.  But having a strong fighter like Spike at her back was, well, comforting.

When she stopped for a moment to think about it, "Riley" and "vampire" were becoming synonymous in her brain.  The thought was like a punch to the gut, but it would help her do what had to be done.

Minutes after the sun went down, Buffy entered Spike's crypt.  He stopped digging through his weapons chest long enough to toss her an axe.  "Just stocking up," he said as he filled his coat pockets with stakes.  He dropped the chest lid and came to stand in front of her.  "Don't want to be caught unawares, do we?"

"Been there, done that," she said under her breath.

Spike squeezed her shoulder.  "To Willy's first.  He usually has the lowdown on the demon activity in town."

"Duh, Spike.  But _I_ do the talking, got it?"

Spike put his hands in the air.  "Whatever you say, Slayer."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I don't know why I let you talk me into these things," Buffy said as the door to Willy's Place was slammed behind them.

"Me?  How the hell was I supposed to know the place was under new management?  Or that the bartender would be too slimy to get a good hold on?  Or that he'd chew your axe into little pieces?  Can't properly threaten something you can't chop or throttle."  He shook residual gunk off his hands.

"What is it with you and the grossest demons possible lately?" Buffy asked.  She started walking down the alley.  Spike fell into step beside her.

"No clue.  I attract all kinds, I guess."

"I'm just letting that one go," Buffy said.  "I guess we should try the cemeteries next.  Maybe—"

"Looking for me?"

Buffy caught her breath as Riley stepped out of the shadows.  He was wearing his human face and looked so—normal.  Her heart clenched a little.

"Nice to see you again, Buffy," Riley said.  "Can't say the same for you, Spike.  But you never did know when to get lost."

"Well, if it isn't Sunnydale's newest addition to the undead," Spike said.  "Looks like you got your wish, mate.  Superstrength without the pesky heart problems."

"Riley, God," Buffy said when she could speak.  "What did you do?"

"Since you like treading on the dark side so much, I thought I'd give it a try.  And I have to tell you!"  He beat his chest.  "It feels fucking fantastic!  I never knew I had to be dead to feel so alive!"

"Well, you're gonna be even deader soon, you ponce, once the Slayer's done with you."

"Yes," Riley said.  "The Slayer is here.  But so is Buffy."  He smiled sweetly at her.  "Isn't that right, Buffy?"

"Riley…"

He stepped closer to her and picked a lock of her hair off her shoulder.  He twirled it around his finger and tugged lightly.  "I can smell you, Buffy.  Your indecision.  Your fear.  How you're just a little turned on by me like this."

She jerked her head away.  "Keep talking, Riley.  You'll make this much easier that way."

"Ooh.  There's that spark.  I knew eventually I'd see it.  You aim it at everyone else enough.  I bet you didn't hold back when you were with Spike.  No worries about breaking him.  You think I didn't know, don't you?"

"Know what?" Buffy ground out.

"How you constantly held back, afraid to really be you with me.  Afraid you might hurt me.  Well, you can't hurt me now, Buffy.  Wanna fuck?"

Spike stepped in front of Buffy and punched Riley in the face.  "You watch your mouth," he said.

Riley's head snapped back, but he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and sucked it off his fingers with a smile.  "Look at you!  Defending the bitch's honor."  He laughed.  "Just wait.  She'll be fucking some other undead piece of meat soon enough."

Buffy caught Spike's fist as it went flying at Riley's face again.  "Let me handle this, Spike," she told him.  He looked at her, then nodded and stepped back.

"Oh my," Riley said.  "You are pussy-whipped, aren't you?"

"And you," Buffy said, hitting him under his chin, "are a big—"  She kicked out, sweeping his legs out from under him.  "Potty mouth."  Riley landed on his back on the pavement and Buffy was on him in a second, a stake pressed to his heart.

"Hesitating, Buffy?" Riley said when she didn't plunge it through. 

"Come on, Slayer.  Finish it," Spike called from behind her.

But she couldn't.  And Riley knew it.

He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back.  Flipping them over, his face transformed and he lowered his mouth to her neck.  Buffy almost wanted him to.  It really _was_ her fault he ended up like this.  Everything he'd said to her had a grain of truth to it.  But then self-preservation kicked in and she threw him off of her. 

Spike ran to her side and offered her a hand up.  She ignored it.  Riley stood, smirking, a few feet away.

"You really should have taken your chance, Buffy," Riley said.  "'Cause you didn't think I'd come alone, now, did you?"

Buffy and Spike looked around quickly as at least a dozen vamps stepped into the light.

"Oh great," Buffy said, rolling her eyes.


	15. Find Me Where I Live

**Chapter 15 – Find Me Where I Live**

"Come on, Slayer.  This is just what you need.  A good fight to get the blood pumping."  Spike was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.  Buffy watched him, trying to feel his enthusiasm.  Okay.  Two against a dozen.  They'd had worse odds.

"Riley, you really don't want to do this," she said.

Still in game face, Riley flashed his fangs.  "Oh, but yes I do, Buffy."

"I will stake you," she said, her voice steady.

"You can try," Riley said.

"Enough chatter, pet.  Let's get to it," Spike broke in.

Buffy glanced at Spike again.  She gave him the slightest nod.  And they flew into action.

Buffy grabbed the nearest vamp by the throat.  As he reflexively clawed at her hand, she staked him and moved onto the next, who was moving up behind her rather quickly.  She kicked backwards, nailing the vamp in his crotch with the heel of her boot before she swung around and staked him too.  A quick look up told her Spike was on the verge of dusting one himself.  She stood for a moment and found Riley with her eyes.  "Three down," she called to him.  "Change you mind about wanting to do this?"

"Buffy!" Spike yelled.  She turned her head in just enough time to see a female vamp flying at her.  The vamp body-tackled her to the ground, knocking the air out of Buffy's lungs.  Next thing Buffy knew, dust was sprinkling over her face and Spike's hand appeared to help her up.  This time she grabbed it.  They stood shoulder to shoulder, braced for another attack.

"So, Riley?" Buffy asked.

"Go," was all Riley said.  Immediately, the remaining vampires lunged at Buffy and Spike.  Fists flew, heads snapped back, vampires poofed.  Then Spike caught a punch to the nose.  Tiny drops of his blood spattered Buffy's shirt.

"Hey!" she yelled, kicking the offending vamp square in the chest.  "That's _my_ nose to punch.  And new shirt here!"  The vampire was staggering backwards when she grabbed his arm and flipped him over her shoulder.  He landed flat on his back and Spike quickly staked him.

Buffy looked at Spike.  "Is that it?"

"Looks like it, love."

"Give me your best shot, Riley," Buffy said, turning.  "I'm just getting warmed up here—wait.  Where is he?" she asked Spike.

"Buggered off, I reckon.  Saw he was outmatched by the dynamic duo that is us."

"We have to find him, Spike.  I want this over with.  Tonight."

"Okay, Slayer," Spike said as he wiped vampire dust from the sleeve of his coat.  "He couldn't've gone far."

"Maybe we should warn the others," Buffy said.

Spike shrugged.  "Your call."

Buffy paced the width of the alley as she thought out loud.  "Willow and Tara know about Riley.  So does Giles.  Xander and Anya—well, Xander has _way_ too many things to say about stuff he knows _nothing_ about and I hope I didn't hurt him when I slapped him…"

Spike put a hand up.  "Whoa—what?  You slapped Harris?  Would've liked to see _that_."

"Yeah, well not one of my finer moments."

"What'd he say?" Spike asked. 

"Nothing," Buffy said quickly.

"Then why—"

"Like I was saying, the Scoobies all know, so they should be fine."  She came to a dead stop and grabbed Spike's arm.

"God, Spike.  My mom.  She doesn't know."

"Let's go, then," Spike said.  He pulled her hand off his arm and wrapped his fingers around it.  He tugged and they were off running in the direction of Revello Drive.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Things looked normal as Buffy and Spike came up the sidewalk to her front door.  A light was on in the living room and Buffy could see the flash of the television through the curtains.

"Probably overreacting here, but I need to make sure…"  The door swung open easily as she touched it.

"Shit?" she asked Spike.

"I'm thinking 'shit'," Spike answered.  "I got your back."

Buffy shot him a worried look and stepped inside the house.  "Mom?" Buffy called.

"In here, honey!" her mom answered from the back.

Buffy sagged a little in relief.  "Mom, I need to tell you something," Buffy said as she and Spike walked toward the kitchen.  "Something happened to Riley.  So you can't, under any circumstances—"

"Ask him to come in?" Riley finished as Buffy came around the corner.  He had Joyce by the throat.  "Too late.  Not very responsible of you now, Buffy, leaving your poor mom out of the loop like that.  I thought Giles had taught you better than that."

"Let.  Her.  Go," Buffy said.

"Here's the deal," Riley said, wrapping his hand more tightly around Joyce's throat.  "I'll let your dear mother go.  But you have to do something for me first."

"No deals," Buffy said.  "You _will_ let her go.  Now."

Riley vamped out.  He kept his eyes trained on Buffy as he lowered his mouth to Joyce's shoulder.  He pulled the fabric of her shirt out of the way and sunk his fangs into the exposed skin.  Joyce gasped in pain.

"Stop!" Buffy yelled.  Riley raised his head, waiting.  Joyce's blood started dripping down the front of her shirt.  "Tell me the deal."

"Slayer," Spike said from behind her.

She shot him a deadly look.  His face showed his confusion.  But she turned back to Riley without explaining.

"Talk," she said.

"Now she's all eager," Riley said to Joyce.  "That's our Buffy.  Changes her mind on a dime."

Buffy bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from answering.  She crossed her arms.

"I see you're listening now, so I'll repeat," Riley said with a smile.  "I'll let Joyce go.  But first you have to stake Spike."

"Hey now!" Spike protested.

"You've got to be joking, right?" Buffy asked Riley.  "Is this some jealousy thing?  Your poor little male ego got all bruised because Spike can go all night long and you have a hard enough time keeping up with me just once?"

She saw Joyce's eyes widen, but kept her attention focused on Riley.  She could literally feel Spike's ego swelling behind her.  She'd deal with him and it later.

"I mean, what we had was fun, Riley.  Nice even.  But it's over.  Yeah, I was wrong to cheat on you.  Really, really wrong and I'm sorry.  But we were done, really, before it happened.  And I gotta tell you.  Killing my mom?  So not the way to get me back."

"You're playing with fire, little girl," Riley said.  "Saying all these things when I've got Joyce's life literally in my hands."

"Buffy," Spike said softly.  "You distract.  I'll rush."

"You think I can't hear you, Spike?" Riley said.  "Remember?  Vampire here!"

"Rockless ponce, you mean," Spike said under his breath.  The in a normal voice he said, "Hear _that_, mate?"

Riley ignored him.  "Clock's ticking here, Buffy.  What's it gonna be?  Joyce—or Spike?"

"What do you think?" Buffy said tightly.

"I think Mom here is getting a little worried that you'll choose your fucktoy over her," Riley said.  He stuck his tongue out and licked all the blood from Joyce's shoulder.  "I don't mind, though.  If you choose Spike, I get all this yummy goodness.  You know," he said to Joyce, "you're quite beautiful for your age.  Maybe I should turn you."

"You bastard," Joyce said.

"Oh, you have no idea," Riley said.  "But won't it be exciting to find out?"

"Shut up, Riley," Buffy said.  "Fine.  Deal."

"Deal?" Spike and Riley said at the same time.

"Yes, dammit.  I'll stake Spike if you let my mom go."

"What the hell are you playing at, Slayer?" Spike asked. 

In a flash, Buffy had Spike immobilized, his arm twisted behind his back.  "Let go of her," she directed Riley.

Riley laughed.  "You may think I'm some dumb fuck because I'm from Iowa, but I wasn't born yesterday, honey.  You stake him first."

"You'll have to get me one.  I lost all my stakes in the fight with you and your totally lame minions."

"Fine," Riley said.  He turned his head and reached for a wooden spoon in the utensil crock on the kitchen island.  As soon as he took his eyes off her, Buffy moved.

She shoved Spike to the side and dove across the island to knock Riley away from her mom.  Joyce fell to the floor, but scrambled out of range on her hands and knees as Buffy threw Riley up against the refrigerator.

Buffy was in such a fury, Riley could only deflect her blows as she tossed him around the kitchen.  "How could you?" she yelled as she hit him.  "My mom was always wonderful to you!  You son of a BITCH!"  Her last punch sent Riley's head into the sheetrock.  He was trying to pull free when Buffy yelled, "Spike!" and put her hand out.  In seconds, she was gripping the stake Spike threw to her.

She caught Riley's eyes.  "Oh would you look at that?  I guess we had one more."  With that, she shoved it deep into Riley's chest and stepped back as he exploded into dust.

Buffy sank to her knees.  She didn't realize she was crying until she felt her mom's hand on her head and saw a Kleenex being held in front of her face.

"I'm going upstairs to clean up," Joyce said, calmly after Buffy took the tissue.  "I'll be down in a few minutes."

Spike's arm came around Buffy's waist.  He helped her stand.  "Don't say _anything_," she told him.

"Wasn't planning on it," he said.

"You never listen, do you?"  She blew her nose in the soggy Kleenex.

"Right," Spike said.  "So I'll be shoving off now."  He let her go and started down the hall to the front door.

Buffy watched him go for a second before calling his name.  He stopped and looked at her.

"I just…"

He waited.

Something broke loose inside Buffy and she ran to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.  She kissed him wetly, deeply and sloppily.  But it didn't matter because he was kissing her back.

When Buffy pulled back to breathe, Spike blinked at her.  "What was that?" he asked.

"I don't know," Buffy said.  She nervously rubbed at the mascara under her eyes.  "I just needed to do that."

"Is that so?" Spike asked, but the usual cockiness in his voice wasn't there.  He sounded almost—scared.

Buffy just looked at him, this self-proclaimed evil demon who watched her back and tried to take care of her.  Who killed nasties in his free time for the fun of it.  Who was the most sensual and exciting lover she'd ever had.  This was Spike.

"Yeah, it's so," she said softly.

Spike reached a hand out as if to touch her cheek, but dropped it abruptly.  "Better go check on your mum," he said, stepping back.

"Yes.  Definitely," Buffy said.

"I'm just gonna—go," Spike said.

"Okay.  Thanks."

Spike opened the door and nodded at her before walking out.  Buffy watched him go down the sidewalk and was about to close the door to find Joyce when Spike stopped and turned back.

"Slayer?" he said.

"Yeah?"

"Knew you couldn't kill me."  He threw her an annoyingly self-confident smile and disappeared into the night.

Buffy slowly closed the door.


	16. Defensive Much?

Sorry this took so long. I've been on vacation. Thanks for sticking with me, folks...

****

**Chapter 16 – Defensive Much?******

Buffy's head hurt. How could she concentrate on the confusing calculus when she couldn't even think? Halfway through the class, she gave up and let her mind drift.

It had been over a week since she'd dusted Riley. A week of waking up with nightmares, of swinging between tears and bursts of rage, of isolating herself from everyone to avoid their pity or their help. Even her mom had gone light on the lecturing when she'd seen how not well Buffy was dealing with everything.

Two serious boyfriends in her life and she'd killed them both.

"Miss Summers. Class has been dismissed."

Buffy started at her professor's voice. Embarrassed, she quickly gathered her things and hurried out the door, nearly running over Willow in her haste.

"Oh! Will! Hi."

"Hey, Buffy. I was waiting for you," Willow said. "How are you doing? With the whole—everything?"

"I've had better years," Buffy said with a weak smile.

"You look tired."

"Nightmares."

Willow nodded her understanding. "Espresso Pump for coffee?"

"That might be nice," Buffy said. She swung her book bag over her shoulder. "I could use a shot of wakiness."

"So, Buffy," Willow said as they crossed the common on the way to the coffee shop, "you haven't been returning anyone's calls—not even Giles's. We were getting worried."

"I know. Sorry. I needed some time. I still need some time."

"I'm so sorry about Riley."

Buffy sighed. "I found Graham yesterday—Riley's Initiative buddy? He promised to tell Riley's family." She wrapped her arms around herself. "You know? I don't even know what Riley's parents' first names are. He never told me. And I never asked. That's weird, don't you think? All the time we were together and I didn't even bother to find out his parents' names?"

"Buffy…" Willow touched her arm gently.

"I slept with the guy how many times? And I have no clue what his favorite food was. Or what kind of music he liked to listen to." She stopped walking and turned to face Willow. "What's Tara's favorite movie?"

"_Casablanca_. Why?"

"See? No hesitation. You just knew it. Ask me what Riley's favorite movie was."

"Buffy, you don't need to do this to yourself."

"Just ask me."

Willow frowned worriedly, but asked, "What was Riley's favorite movie?"

"I don't know." Buffy started walking again. Willow hurried to catch up with her. "I mean, my God," Buffy continued, fisting her hands, "I know more about _Spike_ than I knew about Riley. I know what brand of cigarettes Spike smokes. I know his favorite TV show is _Passions_ and that he likes to listen to the Sex Pistols. What does it say about me that I know more about my undead former enemy than I did about my own boyfriend?" Buffy stopped abruptly again and sat down in the grass next to the sidewalk. "I'm a horrible person, Will. This almost feels like Angel all over again. But so much worse because I don't think I ever really loved Riley."

"Buffy, get up," Willow said, holding out her hand. "You're not a horrible person. You didn't turn Riley. You didn't make him threaten your mom. Sleeping with Spike? Probably not the smartest thing you've ever done. But most boyfriends would rant or break up with you, not go find the nearest vamp whore to… And this isn't helping, is it?"

Buffy took her hand and allowed Willow to pull her up. "It was helping a little until the vamp whore part."

Willow grimaced. "Sorry."

"No, don't be. There is no right thing to say about all this." Buffy touched Willow's shoulder. "Actually, if you don't mind, I think I'll pass on the coffee after all. I should get back to my room and study a while before patrol tonight."

"Oh! Sure! I understand. But you'll call, right? I mean, if you're in a talky mood?"

"Sure," Buffy said as she reached out to hug Willow. "I'll call."

They separated. As Buffy walked away, she glanced over her shoulder to see Willow still standing where she'd left her, a concerned look on her face.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Buffy silently plunged the stake into the vampire's heart. As his dust cleared, she saw Spike watching her from a dozen feet away.

"No quips tonight, love?" he asked.

"Not in a big quippy mood," she told him. "What are you doing on campus?"

"Same thing you are, I suspect. Patrolling for nasties."

"But why here?"

"It's a regular stop on the Spike's Demon Killing Tour," he said. "Lots of sweet young co-eds to protect." He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and shook one out. "Honestly?" he said before putting it into his mouth and lighting it. "I was hoping to bump into you, Slayer."

"Why's that?"

He blew a cloud of smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "I hadn't seen you around, is all. Wanted to know if you were okay."

"Thanks for your concern," Buffy said dryly. "Now excuse me while I go do my job."

"Buffy." Spike cupped her elbow as she turned to leave. "I didn't think you'd want to see me, so I've stayed away."

"It's for the best, Spike. Nothing should have happened between us anyway."

"You're wrong," Spike said harshly. "What happened to Finn had nothing to do with us."

"How can you say that?" Buffy shook his hand off her arm. "It has everything to do with us—or at least with me. I'm disgusted with my behavior. And I can't trust myself anymore."

"Then trust me, Buffy. None of it was your fault."

"Have you ever taken responsibility for anything you've ever done, Spike? For any of the lives you've taken? For any of the people you've hurt?"

"I'm soulless, remember? You like to remind me of it often enough. Don't have to feel those things—remorse, responsibility. I'm evil, right?"

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "But _have_ you? Because we both know you're not like other vampires. Have you ever felt _sorry_?"

Spike took a long drag on his cigarette before grinding it out beneath his boot. "Don't like hurting you. Not anymore. I feel sorry when I do." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I've got regrets, Buffy. I know you won't believe it, but I do."

Buffy shook her head and looked away. "I don't know what's worse," she finally said. "You being what you are or me believing you."

"Obviously you still have no qualms about hurting me, though," Spike said. "And with that, I'll say my goodnights."

"Spike, wait." She grabbed the sleeve of his coat. "That was—uncalled for. I do believe you don't want to hurt me. And I know you're trying to help with all the patrolling you've been doing lately. I've heard the stories about you, Mr. Blond Avenger. And who made up a lame name like _that_, may I ask?"

"Better than the Bloody Avenger, don't you think?"

"Marginally." That got a slight smile from him. "Since we're both out, both with the same purpose, why don't we do it together—patrol, I mean."

"Patrol. Right," Spike said with a sigh. "Why the hell not?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They fell into an unspoken routine over the next several weeks. They'd often meet after dark near the clock tower on campus and hit the Sunnydale demon highlights. It felt—good. Working with Spike. They read each other well. And Buffy could concentrate on what she needed to do without having to worry about him getting hurt. He was fast, strong, resilient—much like herself. She was surprised to admit they made a good team.

After patrol, they'd usually sit on the Gunderson memorial and talk. Sometimes it was just Buffy complaining about her classes and professors. Sometimes it was Spike telling edited stories of his and Drusilla's past. But it was comfortable and easy being with Spike. Buffy looked forward to spending time with him.

Spike was walking Buffy back to her dorm after an early patrol on a Friday night when they bumped into the Scoobies.

"Buffy!" Xander said. "I haven't seen you since—well, since you smacked my face halfway across your room."

"Xander," Buffy said calmly. "I didn't know we were getting together tonight."

"It wasn't anything really planned," Willow said. "You've been so—avoidy lately." She shot a look at Spike. "We didn't think you'd want to come with."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "So you didn't even bother to call and find out?"

"We're sorry, Buffy," Tara said. "We weren't trying to leave you out. Honest."

Anya was suspiciously quiet, looking anywhere but at Buffy.

"Besides," Xander said. "Looks like you've already got company."

"Harris," Spike said, his voice a low warning.

"Spike," Xander said with a matching tone.

"And the testosterone is flying all over the place!" Willow said, tugging on Xander's arm.

"Xander," Buffy said, "it's been over a month. Can't we move past this? We've been friends a long time. I'm not ready to just let that go. Are you?"

A flash of shame crossed Xander's face. "No, Buffy. I'm not ready to just let our friendship go. You and I really need to talk."

"We do." She looked at Spike quickly before asking Xander, "Do you have some time now? Or are you guys headed somewhere in particular?"

"Just the Bronze," Xander said. "Wanna come with? We could find a quiet—well, quiet-ish—place there to talk."

"Spike?" Buffy said. But he was no longer standing next to her. She looked around quickly to see him halfway across campus already. She got her disappointment under control before turning back to her friends. "Yeah. That sounds good."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So, Buff," Xander said after they'd gotten their drinks and found a somewhat private place to sit, "how are you coping?"

"Better now. I still feel somewhat responsible for Riley becoming a vamp, but I'm dealing."

"Is your mom okay?"

"She's remarkably bounce-backable. She gets exposed to a lot, being the mom of a Slayer. And she seems to handle it all really well. Either that or she's about to explode any day now and I'm just clueless. Which is possible."

Xander laughed a little. Then it was time for the uncomfortable silence. Buffy turned her glass in her hand, staring at the liquid inside it.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," Xander finally said. "The things I said to you that day, they were really uncalled for."

"Thanks, Xander. And I'm sorry I slapped you. You hit a big old nerve."

"I know. And you were hurting over Riley. I know you were. I picked a horrible time to—"

"I've slept with Spike."

"—bring all that huhbalabuh?" Xander stuck a finger in his ear and jiggled it. "I'm sorry. I thought you said you _slept_ with _Spike_." He laughed.

"I did say that," Buffy told him quietly but firmly.

"As in, 'I'm tired after a long night of slaying so let me crash on your sarcophagus' slept?"

Buffy gave him a look. "Xander, what do you think?"

"I'm thinking I'd like to use lye and a steel brush on my brain to erase the image you've just given me."

"I just knew you'd understand." Buffy looked away.

Xander touched her knee. "Sorry, Buff. Just give me time to adjust here. And to resist asking what the hell you're thinking. Except I just did. Ask that."

"He's changing."

"Into _what_ exactly? You think if he didn't have that chip he wouldn't be out slaughtering all of Sunnydale?"

"No. I honestly don't think he'd be doing that. Despite what you might think, Xander, Spike's not stupid. If he wanted to kill and eat, he could easily get someone else to do the dirty work for him. But he's not. He's helping. And he's not just helping me. He's been patrolling on his own too and gaining quite the reputation on campus as a mysterious superhero-ish good guy, which is weird because it's _Spike_, but it's still true."

Xander leaned forward and took her hands in his. "Buffy, he still doesn't have a soul."

"Not in the traditional sense, no. But if you could see how hard he's trying…"

"Trying to get into your pants, that is," Xander broke in.

Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She _would not_ hit him again. Slowly she opened her eyes and focused on him. "I'm not saying he's perfect. He's still infuriating and lacking in the moral compass department and says and does stupid things and maybe he is doing all of this so I'll see him in a different light. But does the reason _why_ he's doing what he's doing really matter? Doesn't it just matter that he _is_?"

"Obviously it doesn't matter to you." Xander let go of her hands and sat back in his chair. "I just don't trust it. That's all."

"Ethan Rayne has a soul. Gwendolyn Post had a soul. For God's sake, _Faith_ has a soul."

"None of them devoured half of Europe."

"Why am I even trying to talk to you about this? Ever since Angel…"

"'Ever since Angel' is _why_ I feel the way I do about this."

"Xander, I wanted to talk to you tonight to get past what's happened between us, but also so I could tell you what's been going on in my life. I've been keeping things from you because I was afraid you'd react just like this. But I need you to understand one thing: I am _not_ asking for your permission." She put her glass down and stood up. "Thanks for the apology and for the drink. But maybe it's time you go home and think about how _you _can love _Anya_ when she spent a thousand years as a demon. How many did she kill, Xander?"

She walked off, ignoring Xander's calls for her to stop. "Come on, Buff. Buffy! Wait! There's _love_ now?!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Buffy doubted Spike would be in his crypt at this time of night, but she needed to check anyway. Since leaving the Bronze an hour ago, she'd been wandering, trying to figure out why she'd told Xander about her and Spike. She wasn't sleeping with Spike now. That was in the past. Now they were just—friends. Friend-like. Slaying buddies. And she was good with that.

Except for that small part of her that made her breath hitch and her pulse jump every time she saw him. No matter how hard she tried to ignore that part or will it away, it was still there.

"You're here," she said, stopping suddenly as she entered his crypt. Spike was sprawled in his chair in front of the TV, dressed only in a pair of jeans. He sat up quickly when she spoke.

"Buffy. Didn't expect to see you here." He leaned forward to snap the television off and looked at her over his shoulder. "Thought you were out with your mates."

"I was. Sort of. Xander and I, we talked a bit. And then I wandered. And now I'm here."

"Can see that. What's up? Come across some new big bad in the neighborhood?"

"No. That's not why I came by. I thought…" Buffy's voice died in her throat as Spike stood and strolled towards her. "Your chest…"

Spike looked down at himself. "Oh, right. I should grab a shirt." He turned to look for one, but Buffy's hand on his arm stopped him.

"No, I meant you're healed. Here." She touched him very lightly where Riley had plunged the plastic stake. "No scar."

Spike stilled under her hand. His voice was very deep when he spoke. "Amazing thing, supernatural healing. It's almost like nothing ever happened."

"But it did. It all happened, Spike. The kisses, the non-spell, you and me together. As much as I've tried to ignore it when I'm with you, I still think about it all when I'm not. And Riley…"

Spike gently touched her hair. "I'm sorry it had to end that way. I won't lie. I never liked him. Never thought he was right for you. But I'm sorry for what you had to do."

"Yeah, well. Relationships and me? Tend to end with someone dying. More."

"Should I take that as a warning or a challenge?" He let his hand drift down her arm, creating ripples of the good chills. Buffy's scalp prickled. He was so close.

"How do you want to take it?" she asked. Her voice sounded strange. Constricted. Nervous.

"Me? I never turn down a challenge, love. You should know that by now."

"Is that all I'll be to you, though? A challenge?"

Spike dropped his hand and stepped back to really look at her. "What are we saying here, Buffy?"

"If we—try this. If we really _do_ whatever it is we're doing, I need to know why. Why you'd want to." Buffy suddenly found something really fascinating to stare at on her left thumbnail.

"Fine. Fuck with me. Very funny, Slayer." Spike backed away from her, hands in the air. "So now your Scoobies will pop out and say, 'Look at Spike. He's so bloody pathetic, thinking he's in love with Buffy. Thinking she could ever return even a smidge of that feeling.' Well, I'm not falling for it. Go find another sucker."

"What? Spike, no. I'm not messing with you. Honestly, I don't know what I'm doing—what we're doing, if anything. I definitely know it's not what I'm supposed to be doing as the Slayer. But it might be what I need as Buffy—and did you just say you're in love with me?"

"Is it hot in here?" Spike asked suddenly. "Because I'm thinking it's hot in here. Water. I could drink some water." He moved to the refrigerator in the far corner of the crypt. "Want some water, Slayer?"

Buffy went to him as he rummaged around inside the fridge. She put her hand on the hollow in his back where his ribs ended. How come she'd never noticed what a beautiful back he had? "Spike. Stop. I don't need water."

Spike straightened and slammed the door. He turned to her, his expression stormy. "Then what the bloody hell _do_ you want?"

"Thing is? What I want?" Buffy stared at him hard. "I think it might be—you."


	17. Dysfunctionally Yours

Well, this is it for this story. Thanks for all the encouraging reviews. I hope the ending is satisfying and thanks for going on this ride with me.

I'm trying this unedited. Please be aware this is definitely R rated.

**Chapter 17 – Dysfunctionally Yours**

"The hell you do," Spike said, pushing off the fridge door to get away from her. "You don't want me. You want what I do to you."

"Wait. Weren't we having this conversation the other day except you were me and I was you—but without the body swapping?"

"Joke all you like but you'll never get me to believe you feel anything for me. Not after all the times you've called me evil and soulless, except the soulless part is technically true. And I guess I've taken pride in being evil… Dammit, Slayer! Can't take you mucking about with my feelings here. Yeah. I said it. I love you. Satisfied?"

"What is it we're fighting about exactly?" Buffy asked.

"You not having feelings for me."

"Who said I didn't have feelings for you?"

"So you're saying you do?"

"Yes, I'm saying I do have feelings for you, Spike."

That stopped him cold. "We're talking romantic feelings, right? Not 'let's be mates' or 'Might keep you around because you're a damn good fighter' feelings, right?"

"Well, you are a good fighter. But yeah. Romantic-like feelings."

"Bollocks," Spike said.

Buffy laughed, frustrated. "What is it with you? Do you only want me when I don't want you? Or when I want you in spite of myself?"

"Don't know," Spike said. "Never considered the idea of you actually wanting _me_."

"God, we're screwed up," Buffy said. She sat down on a bench along the wall. "Okay. We've been spending a lot of time together this past month, right?"

Spike nodded.

"And we work together really well."

"Yeah," Spike agreed.

"And in the workplace…"

"Feelings develop?" he asked. "Real feelings?"

"I never thought I'd live to see the day William the Bloody was so unsure of himself. You're usually all sex god-y."

"Yeah?" Spike shifted, pushing his hips out a bit. "Sex god, eh?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and got up. "I can't believe I'm trying to talk you into this." She started toward the door. But before she could get there, Spike was in front of her, holding her arms. He looked into her eyes and nodded questioningly. When she nodded back, his eyes softened and he pulled her against his body.

"This is for real, Buffy," he said softly. "No regrets. No going back."

"No regrets," she said. "You're a good man, Spike. Yeah, the not-having-a-soul thing has me all conflicty now and again. But I've never seen anyone try as hard as you do to overcome that. It's like you're building a soul or something."

He pulled back and she was sure the kiss would come next, but instead he suddenly wrapped his arms around her and hugged her, burying his face in her hair. She could feel his body shake.

"Spike?" she asked.

He just clutched her harder.

"Spike. Breathing is becoming an issue here."

He loosened his grip and she backed up a little so she could see his face. "Are those? Are those tears?" she asked.

"It's nothing," he said, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Dust."

"No, those are tears. Oh God. I made you cry. That can't be good."

He looked away. "Don't want to go all nancy boy on you, Slayer. Just caught me off guard."

"I didn't mean to embarrass you."

He smiled at her. "Really are fucked up, aren't we?"

"Absolutely," she said.

"Want to kiss you, Buffy."

"What's stopping you?"

He cupped her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. And it felt different. For the first time, Buffy let herself really feel what his touch did to her. Her brain didn't fight with her emotions. It was just Buffy kissing Spike. And it was really, really good.

His lips were soft, barely touching hers. But the tingles they caused went all the way to her belly. She reached up to slide her fingers through his hair and draw him closer. He went willingly and the kiss became more demanding, tongues and teeth and bodies pressed hard together.

Buffy pulled her hands away from his head and started unbuttoning her blouse. Spike brushed her fingers aside and undid them himself, kissing each patch of skin he exposed. When her top hung open, he slipped a fingernail under the clasp of her bra and unhooked it. The cups still covered her breasts and he put his mouth over the silk, tonguing a nipple to hardness before releasing it and doing the same to the other. Buffy threw her head back and sagged against the arm he wrapped around her back. He peeled the now wet silk back and sucked her bare nipple, gently pressing it against the roof of his mouth. Buffy squirmed in pleasure.

"Like that, do you?" he breathed against her skin before giving her other breast the same treatment.

"Uhh," Buffy grunted.

Spike laughed and swept her into his arms. He brought her to the padded sarcophagus and set her down on the puffy coverlet. "Incentive to get a real bed, you are," he said, undoing her pants as she unbuckled his belt.

After she got his jeans undone, she glanced behind her. "This _is_ kinda hard," she said.

"Got something else that's hard." Spike smirked at her.

Buffy punched his shoulder. He staggered a little and gave her a "what?" look. "Quit that," she said.

"Sex can be fun, you know, love," he said, coming close again.

"I know that. Let's just leave the bad punning for the slaying, okay?"

"Right," he said. He leaned down to pull off her boots. "No puns. Just innuendos." He gently pushed her back onto her elbows and had her raise her hips so he could slip her pants and panties down her legs. She kicked them the rest of the way off before sitting up and slipping her hands down the back of his jeans. She felt the tight curves of his ass and squeezed them gently. Spike's eyes closed a bit and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"I like your ass," she said. "So sue me."

"Not interested in _legal_ action right now," he said. She pulled her hand out of his pants to shake a finger at him. He caught it and sucked it into his mouth. Buffy felt waves of heat flow through her.

"Pants off," she said.

"Right," he said, releasing her finger and stepping out of his jeans.

"You're beautiful. You know that, right?" Buffy asked.

Spike looked startled. "You think so?"

"Oh yes," Buffy said, drawing him on top of her. "You're hard in all the right places—don't say it!—but your touch can be so soft."

He braced himself on his forearms and gently touched his mouth to hers. He teased her with light kisses before she lost patience and pulled his head down. Her tongue played with his as the kisses grew deeper and wetter. Buffy felt as if he would swallow her whole. She pulled back for breath and touched his full lower lip. "I love kissing you," she said.

Spike's eyes closed briefly before he attacked her mouth again. Gone was the time for gentleness. She could feel him growing even harder against her leg.

He broke the kiss this time. "Want inside, Buffy. God, I want to be so deep inside you."

Buffy opened her legs. "I want that too," she said. She grabbed his ass, urging him closer. "Come inside me."

He thrust his hips and plunged into her. Buffy caught her breath, ignoring the flash of pain that came before her body adjusted to his size. He watched her face closely, waiting for her to tell him it was okay to move.

"Now," she said seconds later.

His strokes were smooth, her wetness easing the way. He moved his hips just right so the base of his cock rubbed against her clit. Buffy's body jerked slightly at each touch.

"Oh, God, love. Never thought I'd be doing this again with you. I wanted to so badly. Want you so badly…"

Buffy pressed her nails into his back and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hips moved to meet his, making them each gasp as their pelvises met. "So deep," Spike said. He ducked his head to draw her nipple into his mouth. He ran his teeth lightly over the sensitive nub before sucking on it again and Buffy felt each pull right between her legs.

"Spike, I… Oh. I…"

He let her nipple go with a pop and reached his hand between their bodies. His thumb circled her clit as he increased the pace of his thrusts. "Got you, Buffy. Let go," he ground out.

Buffy clenched her vaginal muscles and circled her hips. She was so close. His thumb was doing perfect things to her and she felt the heat build in her face. And then she broke, liquid warmth and pleasure rushing through her body. She shuddered underneath him, hearing little cries, realizing they were coming from her.

Spike kissed her then. "Never seen anything as gorgeous as you when you come," he said against her mouth. "Your lashes do this fluttery thing, your face blushes red all the way down to your breasts." He moved his head to lick a nipple. "These get all hard…"

Buffy slid her feet down the backs of his legs. "My turn to watch your face," she said.

Spike groaned and buried his face in her neck. Buffy moved her shoulder, making him raise his head. "I do," she said. "I want to see you."

"I love you," Spike said. Then he pulled back a bit, as if anticipating a blow.

"I believe you," Buffy said. "And I… Well, I…"

"You don't have to say it, love. Not yet. But someday."

"Someday," she echoed.

He kissed her again and started driving into her. Her body sucked him in and resisted letting him go. He pushed up on his hands to stroke in and out of her fast, entering her as deeply as their combined bodies would let him. Buffy watched him, watched the pain and pleasure fight for dominance in his expression until she felt it—the strong pulses of his orgasm as he emptied inside her. His face went slack. Pleasure won.

His arms were shaking with strain so she pulled him down on top of her and nestled his face into the crook of her neck. She buried one hand in the curls at the back of his head and swept the other soothingly up and down his back.

Buffy waited, but the regret didn't come. Instead, she felt peaceful and very, very sleepy. Spike was still against her. She kissed his forehead and let herself drift off.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

He was watching her when she woke up, his brow creased in concentration.

"What?" she said.

"Was trying to prepare myself for the possible appearance of Evil Morning-After Buffy."

A flash of anger went through her before she noticed how uncertain he looked. Suddenly she understood. He needed proof that she wasn't going to kick him in the head and fly out of here.

"Kiss me," she said. His eyes widened slightly, but he did as she demanded. Buffy put everything she couldn't say into the kiss. When they broke apart, Spike was smiling.

"Morning, love," he said.

"Hi."

"How'd you sleep?"

"Really well, actually." She couldn't keep from touching him. Didn't want to keep from touching him. "What time is it?"

Spike looked around. "Few hours past dawn, I'd say. Do you have somewhere to be?"

"It's Saturday, right?" she asked. "Nope. No place I'd rather be."

"Well then, let's get started on Round Two of the Spike and Buffy Sexual Olympics, shall we?"

"Sounds like a plan," Buffy said. She put a hand to his chest, holding him away from her. "But, you know, we should probably do that—talking thing. Eventually. Like, about us. About breaking the 'us'ness of us to the Scoobies. About the fact that there's no way this thing between us will ever be ice cream and Bing Crosby love songs—"

Spike put his hand over her mouth. "We will. We'll chat it all out, I promise you. I know this thing with you and me, it won't be easy. But just you saying there _is_ an 'us' is enough for me right now."

Buffy smiled under his hand and stuck her tongue out to touch his palm. He "grr"ed and practically pounced on her.

"Never was one for ice cream," he said, making his way down her body. "Much rather lick you."

And Buffy, quite willingly, let him.

**END**


End file.
